


Weightless

by DodgerBear



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU - Different First Meeting, Don’t want to give away any spoilers, Ian is a donor, Kidney failure, M/M, No Character Death, Sick Mickey, angst with happy ending, but it won’t be what you think, but it’s complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 74,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DodgerBear/pseuds/DodgerBear
Summary: Mickey is in late stage kidney failure when he meets Ian - the bleeding heart who wants to save the world, including Mickey.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 393
Kudos: 332





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story I didn’t know I wanted to write until now. Huge thanks to Amanda for the idea. Hope it’s somewhere close to what you wanted.

Ian will always maintain to anyone who asks that the blame for his current situation lies firmly and undeniably at Frank Gallagher’s door. That man, his almost-father, had caused this situation without even trying and in most cases any action of Frank’s was doomed to bring misery on everyone within a ten block radius. Ian, however, would also concede to anyone that asked that Frank’s actions, while completely inadvertent, had been the best thing to ever happen to Ian. Huh. Not many people can say that, right?

It all started back when Ian was 18 years old and living with his family in the Gallagher house. Lip was in college and rarely at home but popped up now and then. Fiona was Fiona...ready to step up and be Supermom at any given time but also easily distracted by whoever was this month’s toxic relationship. Debbie and Carl were still in school and testing everyone’s patience with their teenage attitude. Liam was the only consistent member of the family. He ate. He slept. He played with his toys. It always seemed to be 0-60 in six seconds that house and Ian needed a degree in psychology just to keep up. He didn’t have a degree in psychology though and he had to make do with good old-fashioned patience and understanding. He had that in abundance for his siblings but he barely had the time of day for his DadUncle. So when Carl came to him in a fit of panic because Frank was in the hospital it didn’t strike Ian as anything to be worked up about. 

“His liver exploded!” Carl yelled dramatically as Ian got dressed too slowly for his liking. 

“Are you shocked by that?” Ian snorted derisively. “Cuz I’m not.”

“Iannnn.” Carl wailed. “Take me to the hospital.”

“Fine!” Ian growled and yanked on one of Lip’s forgotten hoodies. “Come on.”

And that’s when it happened. While Frank was in surgery for nine hours having his insides rebuilt and rearranged, Ian was sat on a hard plastic chair in the waiting room zoning out of the bickering conversations going on between his siblings and reading the poster on the wall ahead of him. Nine hours of staring at one poster. He could draw it out again from memory now, a good decade later, such was it burned into his memory. 

Living Donor Kidney Transplant. The facts and the fiction. The pros and the cons. The ability to save a life and be guaranteed a place beyond the pearly gates. 

Okay. It didn’t say that exactly. But it did allude to it and who didn’t want to be a hero?

Ian closed his eyes and still saw the cartoon image of a kidney on the back of his eyelids. Carl’s voice was getting louder as he yelled at Debbie about who was going to look after Frank when he came home. 

That was the killer for Ian. The pain and hurt and damage that man did to his nearest and dearest and they were still battling each other to look after him. Ian despised Frank more than anyone or anything he’d ever met in his life. Mass genocide aside, Ian firmly believed he would prefer an hour in the company of Hitler. But his brother and sister were still so in love with the idea of being a family that they would literally fight each other for the privilege of wiping Frank’s ass. What the fuck world do they live in?

So yeah. Eighteen year old Ian who knew all about living kidney donation grew up. He aged five years and became a man working as an EMT in the shittiest part of Chicago and wondering how he could actually make a difference in the world. He scooped up junkies and gave them Naloxone. He patched up drunk drivers who didn’t know the difference between an exit lane and a concrete barrier. He wrapped kids up in bandages and dished out lollipops when their attempts to be intrepid explorers had them falling out of trees. His job was varied and interesting but he still wasn’t sure it was enough. Enter Frank Gallagher to fuck with his life once again. 

“Ian, I need you to take Frank for his dialysis tomorrow.” Fiona stated while she was digging around in the fridge for something to make for dinner. 

“No way!” Ian balked. “I get one day off a week. I am not spending it with him!”

“It’s your turn. I’ve done it every week since his kidneys joined his liver at death’s door! You want mac and cheese or spaghetti?”

Ian curled his lip in disgust. “Neither. I’m going out.”

He stormed out of the house in his petty rage knowing perfectly well that his sister would get her own way. She always did. 

Frank would be the luckiest guy in the world if kidney failure killed him, Ian decided. It would be a lot less painful than the savage beating Ian imagined himself doling out to the man. Once he started, once that first punch landed, Ian wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He’d keep going until Frank was a bloody pulp and he was looking at the next 25 behind bars. That was the depth of his hatred and it rankled with Ian that he was forced into feeling this way on the one day of the full week that he had to himself. 

“You young people just don’t get it. What the government wants us to think and what the truth is? A million miles apart. Take my dialysis for example. The pharmaceutical giants haven’t developed a drug to do it for us by now? Of course they have! But will they give it to guys like me? Of course not! They’d rather see us dragged in every week and hooked up to a machine so they can watch us suffer...to humiliate us...” Frank’s droning voice was riling Ian up until he couldn’t take anymore and slammed the brakes on the car. Frank lurched forward, smacking his hands on the dashboard to steady himself. 

“Hey!”

“Enough Frank! Shut the fuck up! I have zero interest in being your babysitter today so shut up and let me get through this without murder on my criminal record!” Ian bellowed, gripping the steering until his knuckles were white. Frank was stunned to silence until they pulled into the parking lot at the clinic a few minutes later. 

“Jesus. What crawled up your ass and laid eggs?”

Ian rolled his eyes to the sky. “Get out of the car, Frank.”

Once inside the clinic things didn’t improve much. Frank obviously had opinions on all of the staff and patients and didn’t mind sharing them with Ian, who wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole when Frank started flirting with a nurse who was about the same age as Ian. The dialysis unit was a pretty grim place. Chairs were lined up against the wall around the room with an IV unit alongside. Patients were afforded no privacy and it made Ian cringe. From his experience on the job the thing most people want when they’re sick is to hide away from the world until they feel better. These people were on display for everyone to see. Ian sat on a chair opposite Frank and flipped through a magazine, pointedly ignoring him while he was hooked up to the machine. Every now and then a new patient would enter the room and take a seat, Ian barely glancing up. But when Frank was almost done the door opened again and a young man shuffled inside. He was short, skinny and his black hair was cut close on the sides and longer on top. His skin was so pale that his blue eyes looked huge on his face, sunken and framed by dark smudges. He looked absolutely exhausted. Ian’s eyes followed him to the only spare station available, which was to Frank’s right. Ian watched as the guy slumped into the chair and struggled to get his jacket off, panting for breath with exertion. 

“You need some help?” Ian immediately offered, his EMT training leaping to the forefront. 

The man’s pale face twisted into a scowl. “No. I don’t need help, fuck you very much.”

“Fine.” Ian smarted. “Sorry I asked.”

Frank tilted his head to the side and smiled smugly at the newcomer. “Hello again.”

“Fuck off and die.”

“Now is that any way to speak to your neighbor! I was only being polite...here I was about to introduce you to my son...”

“Frank. Leave him alone. Not everyone wants the full Gallagher experience you know.” Ian warned and went back to his magazine. His eyes scanned the page and surreptitiously flicked over to the new guy to gauge his reaction. The guy was still out of breath but was now in his seat with his jacket off and having his arm prepped for the dialysis to start. 

“Thanks.” He muttered, making Ian’s brows raise in surprise. 

“No problem. He’s a mouthy fucker who doesn’t know when to shut up.” Ian shrugged. 

“Is it hereditary?”

Ian snorted a laugh and shrugged again. “I dunno. He isn’t my real dad anyway so not a clean sample group.”

They both glanced at Frank and found he had turned away to strike up an emphatic conversation with his other neighbor about the cost of prescription painkillers these days. Ian wanted to chip in with a reminder that they wouldn’t be so expensive if you took the dosage as recommended by a physician instead of taking the Frank Gallagher recommended dose. His eyes flicked back to the young guy and found his eyes were closed and he was taking shallow breaths. 

“You sure you’re okay?”

The blue eyes opposite flew open. “Apart from late stage renal failure?”

Ian laughed and rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Dumb question. Sorry. I’m Ian by the way.”

“Mickey.” The dark-haired man replied. “And I hate needles. They make me queasy.”

“Oh.” Ian mouthed. “That’s gotta suck for someone on dialysis.”

“Just a bit.” Mickey rolled his eyes. 

“But not so much for tattoos huh?” Ian grinned and pointed to the knuckle ink Mickey was sporting. The faded black letters spelled out fuck on one hand and u-up on the other. Ian caught the slight blush on Mickey’s face. 

“You do dumb things when you’re a kid and tryna impress your brothers.”

Ian laughed softly. “Hey. No judgement here. I got an eagle with a rifle when I was sixteen because I was convinced I was gonna join the army and be the next John fuckin Rambo.”

Mickey gave a very tiny smile and Ian could see it nearly killed him. His eyes went back to his magazine...and Jesus Christ how long can one article about restoring an old bookshelf be...while Mickey looked anywhere but the tube going into his arm. Ian’s instincts kicked in once again and he closed the magazine, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. 

“Does it make it easier having someone to talk to or do you prefer to be quiet?” He asked softly. 

Mickey looked at him sadly. “I don’t know. Never had anyone here to talk to me before.”

Ian’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. “What about your family? Your parents?”

Mickey smirked darkly. “Not an option. My sister is the only person who knows about this and she lives in St Louis. She can’t be here three times a week with me.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ian left that one well alone. “I’m here today. Let’s try it out?”

Mickey glared at Ian. “You just want to be up in everyone’s business.”

“I do not!” Ian snapped. “I want to help.”

“And I already told you. I don’t need help and I don’t want help. Especially not from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ian crossed his arms. 

“It means it’s bad enough being stuck in his chair with my blood pouring out of my arm without having someone with a fuckin god complex sitting looking at me like my puppy just caught fire! Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Fine!” Ian jumped to his feet and turned to the door. 

“Where are you going? You can’t leave me here!” Frank called out to him. Ian reeled around and narrowed his eyes at Mickey. 

“I’m getting some fresh air. This place is making me queasy.”

By leaving the clinic Ian missed the next part of the Gallagher experience that Frank bestowed upon Mickey. 

“You know, if he was my kid he wouldn’t have turned out to be fairy princess he is today. Oh no. That’s all Clayton’s genetic influence. We may be brothers but he’s always had a flair for the dramatic like nobody’s business. Stands to reason Ian would get it. He just goes one step further than good old Clayton and actually lays with other men. And don’t get me wrong. The gay thing isn’t a problem for me. Definitely not. But do they always have to be so theatrical?”

Mickey stared at Frank with his jaw resting on his chest as the older man continued to rant about the redhead who had given up his day to bring him to the clinic. He watched as the man delivered his diatribe about theatrical gays while waving his arms around like he was batting away moths. This guy was unbelievable. Un-fuckin-believable. It was the disbelief that delayed Mickey from absorbing the real piece of valuable information in the rant: Gingerbread was gay. That was just golden. How often did Mickey even meet another gay guy, let alone one who was so fuckin gorgeous when he was angry that he made Mickey’s dick twitch in the middle of his treatment. Mickey’s dick had, for all intents and purposes, gone into retirement since his condition deteriorated. To get even a twitch out of it gave Mickey hope that all was not lost and that was down to Ian. Jesus Christ, Mickey thought to himself as he watched Frank’s lips move without hearing a word, he really hoped he hadn’t scared Ian off for good. 

Ian did come back to the clinic. Frank was just finishing up and Mickey was dozing in his chair. Ian’s heart did that weird clenching thing in his chest again and he couldn’t work out if it was because Mickey was so obviously in a lot of discomfort or if it was because he was attracted the young man. It seemed inappropriate to crush on the guy when he was in a clinic receiving life-saving treatment but Ian could at least admit it to himself in his own mind. Mickey was fucking adorable. Beautiful blue eyes that glittered. A twisted smirk that showed off dimples Ian wanted to sink his teeth into. But he was an irritating fucker that Ian could probably do well to stay away from if avoiding that murder charge was still a priority. 

“Oh good. You’re back. Can you get this chatty asshole out of here please? And make sure he has a wash before you bring him back!” Mickey snapped when he saw Ian was gazing at him thoughtfully.

“We’ve tried for over twenty years to get him to take a bath and decided to give it up as a bad job. We’re focusing on something more realistic instead. Like curing the common cold.” Ian shot back and folded his arms, almost challenging Mickey to snap back at him. The brunet surprised him once again by tipping his head back and laughing loudly. 

“You babysitting the asshole again next week?” Mickey asked quietly when Frank was distracted by the nurse removing his line. 

Ian arched his brow. “Why? You gonna find another clinic if I say yes?”

“Damn. The asshole is right. You are a fuckin drama princess.” Mickey grinned. 

“Fuck you.” Ian grinned back. 

Frank shuffled beside Ian and pulled his rancid beanie hat on his head. “Let’s go. I can still catch happy hour at the Alibi.”

Ian bit his lip to stop from laughing aloud when he caught Mickey mouthing “asshole” behind Frank’s back. 

“See ya next week, Gingerbread.”

“Whatever.” Ian flipped Mickey off with a smirk on his face. 

When the next week rolled around nobody was more surprised than Fiona when Ian offered to take Frank for his dialysis. 

“What happened to not spending your one day off with him?” She sniffed suspiciously. 

Ian buried his head in the fridge so Fiona didn’t see him blushing. “Just trying to help you out, that’s all.”

“Bullshit. What’s changed?” 

“You take him then! I was only doing you a favor!” Ian huffed loudly and slammed the fridge door closed. 

“Oh no. You’ve offered. Now the job is yours.” Fiona cackled. “Can you put Liam to bed? I’m going out with Vee.”

“Sure. Why not?” Ian stuck his tongue out childishly. 

“So,” Ian started up the conversation before Mickey even had his jacket off. “How did a nice guy like you end up in a shit hole like this?”

Mickey stared at Ian for a moment. He couldn’t work out why the redhead was sitting in the assigned visitor seating for his station when Frank was across the room, far away from the two of them. 

“You missed the part where I said I have late stage renal failure huh.” Mickey finally said. 

“No. I caught that. I just wondered how come. Like, Frank’s here because he’s spent the better part of fifty years high as a kite on any and all narcotics made available to him. But you seem a little more switched on.” Ian tapped his foot on the linoleum floor. 

“I dunno about switched on but yeah, my story is way less interesting. Diabetes. I didn’t get a diagnosis until I was fifteen but the doctors think I had it for years before I got tested. By then my kidneys were fucked. They don’t filter for shit anymore. The dialysis keeps me going but I really need a transplant sometime soon.”

Ian’s ears pricked up. “Wow. That far down the line?”

Mickey’s expression became darker but he managed to fight back the urge to snap at Ian for being so blunt. This was his life and Ian didn’t need to state the obvious to him. 

“I got one working at around 40% and that’s okay but the other is 15-20% and that’s bad fuckin news.” Mickey shrugged. 

“I’m sorry, man.” Ian murmured. 

His sincerity made Mickey stop and think. Maybe this weirdly forward and blunt guy wasn’t as bad as he first thought. 

“So your dad is really your uncle and your uncle is really your dad?” Mickey blurted out to change the subject. 

Ian laughed cheerfully. “Frank been giving you my seedy life story huh? Yeah...my mom had a fling with his brother. And Frank has never let a day go by without reminding me.”

“He also called you a fairy princess.” 

Ian waved his hand dismissively. “Pah. Tame. He usually calls me an insouciant friend of Dorothy, which when you think about it is a double insult because I had to look up what insouciant means. He managed to make me feel dumb as rocks as well as calling me gay.”

Mickey laughed quietly into his hand. “And are you?”

“Dumb as rocks? I hope not. I’m training to be a paramedic so that wouldn’t end well.”

Mickey blushed adorably. “No. Gay.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So what if I am?”

They were interrupted by a nurse checking the hemodialyzer was working properly. By the time she left them alone again the moment had passed and Mickey was back to scowling at Ian. 

“None of your family are a match?” Ian asked softly and waited for the barrage of abuse that he suspected was coming. Mickey remained silent and Ian smiled gently at him. 

“No,” Mickey almost whispered. “My sister isn’t a match. None of my brothers either. Just my dad.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ian leaned closer to Mickey. “That’s something, right?”

Mickey’s eyes closed and he licked his lips. “No. My dad wouldn’t give me a kidney if he had 100 spare just taking up space in the garage.”

Ian was stunned. He hated Frank with a passion spared for no other human but even he had been tested to check for a possible match (he wasn’t, only Liam was a match but he was currently too young. Lucky fuck.)

“What? How...?” He spluttered and that dark smirk twisted Mickey’s lips into something ugly that Ian hated to see. With his eyes still closed he shook his head. 

“Put it this way...my dad’s way of calling me gay was to pistol whip me and throw me down a flight of concrete steps. Friend of Dorothy would have been an absolute dream for me.”

Ian’s mouth made a loud whooshing noise when it fell open. “Hold up. You’re gay?”

Mickey laughed cruelly. “Used to be. Now I’m just nothing. Waiting for it all to be over.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Mickey shot back. “You don’t know shit about my life. You couldn’t possibly understand this. Why are you even here? You’re one of those bleeding hearts aren’t you? The ones that make out like they’re here to help. A shoulder to cry on. When really all you want is to feel good about yourself for having a little chat with the poor losers who come in here week after week until they die because who the fuck can afford new organs anyway? Get the fuck outta here Ian. Go back to getting your kicks from saving lives in your ambulance and leave me the fuck alone.”

Ian just sat back and let Mickey seethe as loudly as he wanted. Ian had clicked very recently that Mickey lost his shit when he wanted to avoid a conversation. In this case, Ian could see the fear lingering behind Mickey’s eyes. He didn’t want to die. He was afraid of dying. Ian had seen that look far too many times in the couple of years he’d been an EMT. He also knew if he didn’t rise to it then the chances are Mickey would make it out the other side and go back to being his usual almost-friendly self. With a huge smile lighting up his pale, freckled face Ian rose to his feet. 

“It was good seeing you, Mick. See you next week.”

Mickey didn’t get a chance to respond. Ian was striding across the room and dropping into the seat next to Frank before he could formulate a sentence. 

Before the next session Ian spent every spare minute researching kidney failure. Everything from the effect of diabetes to the stages of failure and their intervention points. From what Ian could glean from the small amount of detail Mickey had shared, his situation was not good. Without a donor match he was at the mercy of dialysis and Ian knew that was a long term and expensive process, regardless of your insurance status. He didn’t know a thing about Mickey but his heart felt sick at the thought of anything happening to him. When he got to the clinic he set Frank off and headed over to where Mickey was already hooked up and halfway through his session. 

“Oh God. What did I do?”

“What?” Ian frowned. 

“In whatever past life I lived. What did I do that was so bad I have to live through this hell?”

Ian chuckled and spread his arms out. “You must’ve been a very bad boy.”

Mickey’s eyes fluttered closed, a mixture of exhaustion and embarrassment that his dick was twitching again at the vague hint of innuendo thrown his way by Ian. It had been a lifetime since he had to energy to even jerk off. Human contact was a distant memory. 

“What do you want?” 

Ian smiled serenely and handed over a pack of Jolly Ranchers to Mickey. “When the choice is you or Frank?”

“Whatever. So what’s new with you?”

Ian’s brows quirked up but he resisted making a big deal out of it. “Nothing much. I’ve been on night shift this week so I’m all outta whack with my sleep schedule.”

“You work nights much?”

Ian grinned at Mickey. “Careful. It almost sounds like you’re interested in my life.”

Mickey pointed an accusing finger at Ian’s smirking face. “You almost... _almost_...didn’t make this a thing.”

“What can I tell ya? You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” 

This time Mickey’s blush couldn’t be hidden. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Nope.” Ian shook his head. “And you can’t make me.”

Mickey sighed heavily, his energy waning already. Animated conversations seemed to be headed to the list of no-go activities for him, along with erections and walking from his kitchen to the bathroom without gasping for breath. 

“Do you need to rest?” Ian lowered his voice. 

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Ian agreed, keeping his voice low. “So I work a four week rota. Four weeks of 12 hour night shifts followed by four weeks of 12 hour day shifts. It helps to have a few weeks of the same routine otherwise you never quite get used to it and it makes you feel run down. I do at least four shifts in a week but usually pick up cover to make some extra cash. I wanna move out as soon as possible. Living with my fuckin nutcase family is driving me insane. Now I’ve got a decent job and some prospects I wanna get my own place. A little something of my own...” Ian paused for a second to smile. Mickey had fallen asleep with his mouth open slightly. It was the most beautiful thing Ian had ever seen. “...maybe you could come visit me there if I do move soon. We can eat pizza rolls and watch Van Damme movies. I know you’re a Van Damme fan. I can just tell. Probably Seagal too...”

And so Ian continued to chat to the sleeping man, pleased to see him getting some rest. 

“Okay Gallagher. I get it. You have zero friends and no life.” Mickey taunted when Ian sauntered into the clinic six weeks later. Frank had finished his treatment two weeks earlier but Ian continued to visit Mickey. 

Ian held up his hands. “I got off work early so thought I’d swing by.”

“That’s what you said last week.” 

“Jesus. You’d think you’d be grateful for someone wanting to visit your whiny ass!” Ian joked and tossed this week’s bag of candy at Mickey, who caught it in one hand. 

“Did you know?” Mickey narrowed his eyes. 

“What?”

“That these are my favorite?” He held up the bag of bite size chunks of Snickers. Ian tilted his head and frowned. 

“How would I know? I grabbed them from the gas station when I was at work earlier.”

Mickey smiled to himself and ripped open the packet. “I’m supposed to maintain a balanced and healthy diet. But damn it I am not sharing these bad boys.”

Ian laughed cheerfully and leaned back in his seat. “So, how’s your week been?”

Mickey didn’t even hesitate before launching into various stories about what he’d been up to that week. It wasn’t a lot, being honest, but at least he didn’t pretend like Ian was just an inconvenience anymore. If he was being brutally honest, Mickey lived for these sessions now. His life at home was isolated and lonely. He didn’t have the energy to hang out with the friends he’d never made. His brothers were never around, either hooking up with a new piece of ass or sitting out their latest stint in the big house. Mandy called every day and they FaceTimed a lot but she was miles away from him. Having Ian around felt like he could get the voices out of his head long enough to feel normal. Mickey sometimes worried that the isolation would kill him before the kidney failure did. More often than not he would fall asleep in the middle of Ian’s conversations but he was steadily learning more about the bleeding heart redhead as the weeks passed. 

“Let’s play a game.” Ian announced. 

Mickey frowned tiredly but nodded. “I think they got Scrabble or something over on the shelf there...”

Ian’s grin made Mickey stare at him. “Not that kind of game. I wanna get to know you. Let’s play 20 questions.”

Mickey huffed out his breath. “What about me makes you think I wanna answer dumb questions?”

“Because you want to make me happy.” Ian said simply and shuffled in his chair to get comfortable. “I’ll go first. What’s your death row dinner?”

“My what?”

“The dinner you’d want to have if it was the last meal you’d ever eat.”

“Couldn’t have found a better way to phrase that question to a dying guy huh?” Mickey bit the inside of his cheek to stifle his laugh, especially when Ian’s face twisted into a cringe. 

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! That was so fuckin dumb...”

“Relax, Red. I’m fuckin with you!” Mickey burst into roaring laughter. “That’s easy. I’d want a steak. So rare you can hear it moo. Jacket potato. Sour cream and chives. Grilled vegetables. But not those green beans shit. Hate those. Then I’d want a slice of cherry pie and ice cream. Wash it all down with a beer. Damn. I’ve forgotten what beer even tastes like!”

Ian gazed at Mickey’s dreamy expression as he drifted into fantasy land. It almost replaced his sleeping face as the most beautiful thing Ian had ever seen. Almost. 

“That’s a fuckin good choice, Mick.” 

“Mmm. The cherry pie from Rosie’s Diner is, like, heaven.”

“No way! I love that place! That’s where I had my first ever root beer float.” 

“Oh wow yeah! They were so good!”

Ian leaned forward until he was inches away from Mickey. “Let’s go.”

The older man looked uncertain. “What?”

“Tomorrow. You’ll feel the best you will all week, right? That’s what happened with Frank. So I’ll pick you up after I finish work and we’ll go grab some pie.” Ian was warming to his own idea. 

Mickey blushed slightly and shook his head. “I dunno man...”

“Come on, my treat.”

“Sounds like a date to me.”

Ian grinned cheekily. “Can be, if you want it to be.”

Mickey glared at Ian. “Do I look like I go on dates?”

Ian’s grin became a sincere smile. “I’m serious. Let me take you out. You’ll enjoy yourself, I promise.”

After another full minute of hesitant deliberation Mickey sighed. “Fuck it. I’ll be dead soon anyway.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll kill you myself.” Ian shot back with a grin. 

“Going to sleep now.” Mickey made a show of screwing his eyes closed and failing miserably to hide his smile. 

Ian rose to his feet and leaned down, pressing his lips to Mickey’s forehead lightly. “Pick you up here tomorrow. Six o’clock.”

Mickey didn’t reply but Ian left the clinic knowing he would be there waiting for him the next day. 

Ian had forgotten just how good the pies were at Rosie’s Diner. He’d also forgotten that in all of his 23 years he’d never actually been on a date. He’d fucked around with his fair share of random guys over the years but he’d never actually picked a guy up and taken him out to grab a bite. As he sat opposite Mickey in the diner he tapped his fingers nervously on the salt shaker. 

“What the fuck?” Mickey hissed and snatched it away. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m nervous!” Ian blurted out. “I’ve never done this before!”

“Done what? Eat in public?”

“Gone on a date.” Ian admitted, the tips of his ears warming. 

Mickey’s large eyes widened. “Really? Cuz you sure ask people out on dates with the confidence of someone who goes on a lot of them!”

Ian giggled nervously. “I know. Fake it til you make it, right?”

Mickey just shook his head and took a sip of his soda while Ian gave himself an internal pep talk. 

“You only asked me one question yesterday. You’ve got 19 to go.” Mickey said quietly and Ian could’ve kissed him. He was giving Ian a way out of his self-induced anxiety. Ian smiled warmly and leaned closer to Mickey over the table. 

“If you could visit anywhere in the world where would it be?”

Mickey thought about it and smiled. “If I answer does that mean I’ll get whisked there tomorrow on another date?”

“Depends where it is.” Ian shrugged. “You wanna scuba dive off the Gold Coast then no. You tell me you’ve always wanted to visit Navy Pier then I’ll see what I can do to get out of work.”

“Seriously?”

Ian shrugged again. “Sure. Why not?”

Mickey folded his arms across his chest. “Kinda feels like you’re turning 20 Questions into my bucket list.”

“You have a bucket list?”

“I didn’t. But sure feels like I do now.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I just want to make you happy.”

“I don’t understand why. You don’t know me. What is this hero complex you’ve got going on?”

Ian pouted childishly. “It’s not a hero complex, asshole. I like you. Honestly, it’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. With your sunny disposition and general friendliness, what’s not to like right?”

Mickey barked a laugh. “Okay tough guy. It’s London.”

“London?”

“Where I wanna visit. I saw this movie years ago and it was set in London. It looked cool.”

“What was the move?”

Mickey busied himself with his fork and his pie until Ian leaned over and tickled him under the arm. “Tell me!”

“Paddington!”

Ian couldn’t even laugh, he was so shocked. 

“As in...”

“As in the fuckin bear, yes. Move the fuck on.” Mickey scowled and prodded Ian’s hand with his fork. 

Ian grinned widely. “Oh man that’s just precious. My brother loves that movie! I’ve seen it with him a million times.”

“Good for you.”

“Of course, my brother is eleven years old...”

“Fuck you. Fuck you from here to London and back.” Mickey grunted and stabbed at the last piece of the pie on his plate. 

“I’m fucking with you. London looks amazing. Everyone is so...British.”

“No shit.”

“I mean, all polite and charming. They queue up to join a queue. It’s cute.”

Mickey’s eyes drooped with exhaustion and Ian reached out a hand, resting it on Mickey’s. “You need to go home?”

“One more question.” Mickey smiled back. “Make it a good one.”

Ian nodded. “Okay...what’s the one thing you wish you could do but you can’t?”

Mickey closed his eyes, unable to keep them open. “Just...be.”

“What does that mean?”

“I wanna be able to do the shit any other 25 year old dude can do. I wanna walk to the store without feeling like I’m gonna choke. I wanna be able to take a shower without feeling like I ran a marathon. I wanna get a boner and actually have the energy to jerk off. I used to go to the gym. I did weights and I had arms, man. Now I’ve seen better arms on a fuckin chair.” Mickey trailed off with a bitter laugh. Ian smiled and turned Mickey’s hand over in his own, running him thumb down the life line on Mickey’s palm. 

“You’ve still got arms.”

“Fuck off. I got twigs.” Mickey smirked. 

“Well I fuckin like them.”

They gazed at each other for a moment before Mickey spoke again. “I just need the weight to go away. The weight pressing down on me. It’s this invisible fuckin force that’s pushing me into the ground and I dunno how to stop it.”

Ian almost wept. He squeezed Mickey’s hand and looked him square in the eyes. 

“You’re gonna get better. You’ll be better and you can jerk off 40 times a day if you like. Better yet, you’ll let me jerk it for you. And we will go to the gym together and get your arms back.”

Mickey huffed and shook his head. “Guys like me don’t get the happily ever after, Ian. This is it for me. I get worse until there isn’t a worse to get. Then I’m gone. And where does that leave you in this fantasy you’ve dreamed up in your head? This isn’t gonna end well for you either if you’ve started picturing me as your boyfriend.”

Ian just smiled sadly. “I’ll deal with whatever comes along. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ian...I don’t want to sound like an asshole here, especially when you’re shouting me the best slice of pie in Chicago, but me and you? I don’t see how that’s gonna work out.”

“Then I’m just gonna have to show you.” 

Mickey pushed his plate away and sat back, eyes burning into Ian’s. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Concerns duly noted and filed away under advisement.” Ian saluted with a grin. 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey finds himself needing to accept help, which does not come easy to him. Luckily for him, Ian has his way of getting what he wants.

Mickey refused to have Ian drop him at home after their pie date and so he had to leave him in the parking lot of the clinic again. It was a long week until his next dialysis session and Ian was climbing the walls to see him again. So when he arrived and Mickey wasn’t there, Ian just about lost his shit. 

“Where is he?” He asked the nearest nurse. 

“Who?”

“Mickey.”

The nurse scrunched up his face while he thought about it. “Oh, Milkovich. Not coming. He’s at the hospital.”

“What? What the fuck? Is he okay?”

The nurse shrugged and it took everything in Ian’s power to stop from laying him out. 

“Which hospital?” Ian demanded. 

Another shrug. “St Jude’s, I guess. They take in all the broke cases.”

Ian was seething. He bit hard on his cheek to ground himself to reality. “Jesus. You sure this the right job for you, you insensitive asshole?”

The nurse didn’t get a chance to reply. Ian was tearing out of the parking lot in less than a minute. 

St Jude’s was the hospital Ian hated the most in his dispatch area. Patients brought here were, sadly, on the very bottom of the economic ladder. His pace sped up when he saw a triage nurse he recognized. 

“Carla!” He gasped. “I need your help.”

The pretty nurse with hair a shade lighter red than Ian’s smiled happily when she saw him. “Hey Ian. You off the clock?”

“Yeah. I’m looking for a friend. I think he was brought here. You think you can take a look for me?”

Carla glanced around and spoke louder than before. “You’re looking for your brother, okay, let’s see...which of your many brothers are we looking for today?”

“Uh...Mickey...”

Carla shot him a withering glare. “Just Mickey?”

“Milkovich.” Ian muttered, hoping he got the pronunciation right since he only found out that was Mickey’s name when he went to the clinic that day. “Michael, I guess?”

Carla clicked some buttons on her computer and shook her head. “I can’t see him...oh hang on...could it be Mikhailo?”

Ian frowned and thought about it. Could he really be falling for a guy that he’d only ever known a nickname for? 

“Yeah. That’ll be him. He’s here? Is he okay?”

Carla sighed in a way that Ian knew wasn’t good. “He’s in ICU.”

“Shit! Can you get me an update? Can I see him?”

She shook her head. “Family only. Let me see what I can do. Hang tight here.”

Ian paced the corridors until Carla returned a full and excruciating twenty minutes later. She smiled tightly at him and pulled him into a quiet corner. 

“Okay. He’s doing well but he’s got a bad infection, from the port in his arm. Happens a lot. They are pumping him full of antibiotics right now.” She whispered to Ian. 

“Fuck!”

“He a good friend?”

“Yeah.” Ian replied without hesitation. 

“Okay. Come with me and agree with everything I say in there.”

The ICU was on the fifth floor and it was the longest five minutes of Ian’s life to get there. Carla was chatting to him but he barely made out anything she was saying. Finally she swiped her card to get them into the secure ward and led Ian to the desk. 

“Hey Jason. This is Ian. He’s here to see Mikhailo Milkovich.” Carla greeted the doctor in a white coat breezily. 

“Are you next of kin?” Dr Jason glanced around her to where Ian was waiting. 

“Ian is his carer.” Carla stated and held her head high. Dr Jason accepted that immediately and beckoned Ian to the other side of the corridor. Carla winked. “See you around.”

“I love you!” Ian mouthed with a huge smile of relief on his handsome face. 

Mickey looked smaller than usual when he was in the hospital bed. He was hooked up to machines and wore an oxygen mask. His skin was tinged with yellow and Ian knew from his research that it was a sign of his kidneys leaking protein into his blood. Ian’s knees almost buckled under the weight of his fear for the man in the bed. 

“Is he awake? Can he hear me?”

Jason checked Mickey’s status on his chart. “We’ve got him mildly sedated, he needs to rest. The antibiotics are working but it’s just taking some time. He could drift in and out but he’ll know you’re here.”

Ian was left alone in the room with Mickey. He pulled the chair closer to the bed and reached for Mickey’s hand. 

“You need to wake up so I can yell at you. Scared the shit outta me.” He murmured. 

Mickey let out a loud sigh. “Not an incentive, Red.”

Ian chuckled and stroked his wrist. “Hey Mick.”

Mickey took some shallow breaths. “Did I die? Is this hell?”

“Fuck off with that shit. You’re gonna be fine.”

”That’s what I’m worried about.” Mickey wheezed. “Just gotta make sure I’m dead before I get the bill for all this shit.”

Ian held his hand quietly and waited to see if Mickey went back to sleep. His breathing was shallow but he looked better than Ian was expecting for someone in ICU. 

“You don’t gotta sit there and watch me sleep.”

“Nothing else better to do.”

Mickey smiled weakly, his eyes opening to look at Ian. “Tell me about your week.”

And so Ian quietly filled Mickey in on all the Gallagher goings on while Mickey added some extra commentary. From Fiona dating this new guy who thought he was the shit because he drove a BMW ( _too easy to steal, man, he needs a Lexus_ ) to Debbie’s latest scheme to buy clothes on credit, wear them and then return them for a full refund ( _sounds like a sister I got too_ ) they made it through the next hour talking in hushed tones. 

“You need me to tell anyone you’re here?”

“You’re not gonna find anyone who gives a shit, Gallagher. Don’t waste your time.”

Ian huffed in annoyance. “So what? You just do this all by yourself?”

“Dunno what to tell ya. This is it.” Mickey mumbled sleepily. 

“Well I’m not letting you do this alone. I’m gonna be here. I’m gonna be the pimple on your ass. Always right behind you.” 

“Oh Jesus. Death, claim me now!” 

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep, asshole.” 

Mickey was in ICU for another 24 hours and then moved to a normal ward for another couple of days. Once the doctors were happy the infection had cleared up he was ready to be discharged. Ian was there to pick him up and Mickey was furious.

“What the hell?”

“I’ve been here every damn day, Mick. You really didn’t expect me to be here now?”

“I expected to go home and not have to answer to your lanky ginger ass!”

Ian was taken aback. “I’m just giving you a ride home. What the fuck is your problem?”

“YOU! You are my fucking problem! I can’t get a moment of peace from you!” Mickey snarled and tossed his gown onto the bed, leaving him in just his boxers. Ian’s eyes flickered over Mickey’s body and his mouth fell open. The waistband of his underwear hung low on his hips and teased Ian with the happy trail and the start of his dark pubes on show. He was slender but Ian could see where his muscles were previously bigger. Ian had never been more attracted to a man in his life. 

“Got your fill there, pervert?” 

Ian snapped out of his glazed over stare and remembered he was supposed to be mad at Mickey. “Shut up. You’re distracting me with your body when I’m angry.”

“This body?” Mickey scoffed and glanced down at his torso. “This is distracting you?”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Stop fishing for compliments. You know you’re fuckin gorgeous.”

Mickey stared at Ian like he was speaking an alien language. He stared for so long Ian wiped his face for fear he’d missed a spot of toothpaste. 

“What?”

“You’re serious?”

Ian squinted. “About what? Being distracted?”

Mickey nodded shyly and Ian frowned. “Of course I am...what? You don’t see it?”

“Of course not! I’m a fuckin weedy piece of shit who can’t decide if he wants to look like Casper the Friendly Ghost or Bart fuckin Simpson!”

The tension in the room dissolved when Ian roared with laughter. If Mickey’s body didn’t do it for him his sense of humor certainly did. Ian stepped closer to Mickey and reached out his hand, looking up for permission. The older man didn’t speak but gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval. Ian’s fingertips brushed over Mickey’s chest, gently brushing down to his stomach and smiling when the muscles under his skin twitched. Ian lowered his head and pressed his lips to Mickey’s bare shoulder as his hand swept slowly up his right flank. Mickey shuddered under the touch and leaned into Ian for more contact. His dick gave a half-hearted twitch in his pants but otherwise was too tired to raise a smile. But it wasn’t sexual contact Mickey craved, it was the feeling of closeness and support Ian had given him. A feeling that if he allowed to develop would mean devastation when it went away. For now, though, he needed it more than his next breath. 

“Ian...” His voice was shaky.

Ian kissed a trail across Mickey shoulder and up his neck to his jaw. It was scratchy with stubble where Mickey hadn’t shaved and felt amazing on Ian’s skin. Finally Ian came to rest with his forehead against Mickey’s and gazing into his eyes. 

“Pimple on your ass, Mick. Always there. Right behind you.” Ian whispered. 

“You’re a dumb ass motherfucker.”

“Maybe.” Ian shrugged. “Let me take you home.”

Their moment of intimacy was halted by a delicate cough from the doorway. Ian pulled away from Mickey and found Carla leaning against the frame with her arms folded across her chest and a knowing smile on her face. 

“Glad to see you’re on your feet, Mickey. I’ve got your discharge paperwork.”

Mickey nodded and quickly shoved on his jeans and a ratty old t-shirt. He signed his name on the clipboard and handed it back to Carla. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Take it easy.”

Mickey took a deep breath and turned back to Ian. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“Okay.” Ian beamed. “And in the car you can tell me all about how you never got around to telling me your name is actually Mikhailo.”

“Fuck you, Ass Pimple.”

Carla watched them leave from the safety of the nurse’s desk and smiled to herself, hoping silently that if anything ever happened to her she had a “good friend” like Ian to come along. 

Ian glanced around the room again, hoping that a second look would reveal it wasn’t as bad as he first thought. That did not happen. 

“You can’t stay here.” He blurted out when Mickey dropped heavily onto the bed. 

“And yet, here I am.”

“Mickey! I’m serious. You cannot live here.”

Mickey’s eyes snapped open. “You need to back the fuck off, Ian. I can’t hold down a job. I have no qualifications and nowhere near enough experience at anything to earn decent money. Nobody will hire the guy who needs to take time off all the damn time! So how the fuck do you think I can afford a better place? My disability check just about covers this and let’s me eat. I am three fuckin dollars away from selling my ass on a weekly basis! Don’t stand there and tell me where I can and can’t live you entitled fuckin jackass!”

The force of his vitriol knocked the wind out of him and he gasped for breath, hunching in on himself to cough. Ian dropped onto the bed beside him and grabbed his wrist, checking his pulse. It was racing and his skin was clammy. 

“Okay. Calm down. That was bordering on a SNL monologue and you don’t have the energy for that shit.”

“Fuck you.”

“One day.” Ian flashed a grin and the corners of Mickey’s mouth twitched as he fought his smile. “But seriously, Mick, this isn’t gonna work. Look around. It’s damp. It’s cold. You’re not even getting a fighting chance by living in this place.”

Mickey uncurled his body and slumped back. “I don’t have a choice, Ian.”

“Come with me.”

The words were out of Ian’s mouth before he could check himself. Mickey rolled his eyes and huffed loudly. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Come home with me. It’s not much better than here but it’s something. Stay with me for a while.”

“Ian. For fuck sake! What aren’t you seeing here? What’s the plan? I stay with you in that clown car you call a house until when? My body decides it’s all been a hoax and I’m fit and well again? Or I die? You’re gonna watch me die? Fuck. That. Shit.”

“Jesus Christ, Mickey! No! I’m not gonna watch you die! Stop talking like you’ve given up!” 

A tear rolled down Mickey’s face and he swiped it away angrily. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You do. I’m giving you a choice. I want you to pack a bag and come with me. If you hate it, you can leave. But try it. Give it a chance.” Ian pleaded. 

Mickey didn’t answer but he got to his feet and trudged across the room to grab his bag, stuffing it full of clothes. Ian smiled triumphantly until Mickey flipped him off. 

“You haven’t won.”

“Feels like a win.” Ian grinned. 

“Fuck off.”

Fiona’s jaw dropped when Ian came into the kitchen with a sickly looking guy a little after dinner time. 

“Hey Fi. This is Mickey.” He smiled disarmingly. “He’s gonna stay with me for a while.”

“Oh.” She gaped. “Everything okay?”

Mickey held back, hiding behind Ian’s larger frame and fidgeting with his hands. Ian nodded and grabbed for Mickey’s hand. 

“Yeah. All good. We’ll be in my room, I’ll catch you up in a bit.” 

With that, Mickey was pulled up the stairs and tossed into a room before he could wheeze his next breath. 

“If that’s any indication of how fast you fuck I think I’m glad I’m an invalid.” He flopped onto the unmade bed and closed his eyes. 

Ian tossed Mickey’s bag to the floor and crawled onto the bed, climbing over the other man and into the free space under the window. “Guess we’ll find out one day.”

“Don’t hold your breath. I can barely raise a smile most days.”

“That a challenge?” Ian turned his head, grinning and placing his hand on Mickey’s belt buckle. “Cuz I reckon I can blow you and make you shoot in less than five minutes.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m being conservative. I actually think three minutes will be enough.”

Mickey laughed and closed his eyes again. “Do your worst, Gallagher.”

Ian’s eyes gleamed as he got to his knees and reached out to unbuckle the belt that barely kept Mickey’s jeans up. His hipbones jutted out and Ian grazed his teeth over them while he unzipped the jeans. His hand slipped inside Mickey’s boxers and he grinned cheekily when he felt Mickey’s dick start to plump up. He pressed butterfly kisses to Mickey’s stomach, licking at his navel and making his dick stiffen faster than Mickey had ever achieved in his adult life. 

“God, Ian.” He moaned. 

Ian delved deeper and was just about to pull Mickey’s now semi-erect cock out of his pants when there was a brief knock on the door before it flew open. 

“Ian...I need a whoa!! Sorry!” Carl yelled hastily. 

“Jesus Carl!” Ian groaned and pulled Mickey’s threadbare shirt down to cover him up. 

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company.”

“Guess you guys should meet. Carl, this is Mickey. Mick, my brother Carl.”

“He your boyfriend?”

“No I am not his fuckin _boyfriend_.” Mickey scoffed. 

Ian felt the pain like he’d been kicked in the gut. He gazed balefully at the older man and shook his head. “He’s totally my boyfriend. He just won’t admit it yet. Anyway, he’s gonna be staying for a while.”

Carl shrugged. “Sure. You like Mythbusters?”

Mickey squinted in confusion. “The tv show?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh...sure?”

“Good. It’s my turn to pick what we watch on family night.” Carl told him and then breezed out of the room. 

“Family night?” Mickey gaped in shock. 

“Every week.” Ian nodded. “Sorry about Carl. You see why I need my own place.”

Mickey lay back on the bed and pulled a pillow over his face. “What the fuck have I done?”

It was the next morning when Ian went down to grab breakfast for him and Mickey that Fiona got to pounce. She was busy tossing pancakes while her latest unemployed and deadbeat romantic interest, Dan, loudly munched his way through a bowl of Cheerios at the table. 

“Who is this guy?” She stopped flipping and set her hands on her hips. 

Ian stared at her levelly, trying not to get annoyed by her demanding voice and combative stance. “He’s a friend.”

“Boyfriend?” 

“None of your business.”

“Ian, sweetface, we don’t have the resources in the squirrel fund to feed another mouth...”

Ian’s eyes narrowed to dangerous points. “Oh. So I guess Dan is bringing his own Cheerios every morning?” 

“That’s not...”

“Didn’t think so. Look, Fi, this is my home and Mickey is important to me. I’ll put extra in the fund for us.” Ian cut her off. 

“Ian, it’s not just that. This place is already full to capacity...”

“And yet...” Ian’s arm swept out in Dan’s direction. 

A wheeze from the stairs drew their attention and Ian internally cringed when he saw Mickey hovering. He was dressed in his jeans and a hoodie that Ian had left on the bed. It was huge on his small frame. It looked like he would be blushing if his face wasn’t already the wrong shade of yellow-grey. 

“I’m gonna go...”

“No. No way.” Ian snapped at him. 

“Fuck, Gallagher, you heard her. I shouldn’t be here.”

“I didn’t say...” Fiona tried to chip in but Mickey raised his hand. 

“It’s cool. This was a crazy idea anyway.”

Ian was glowing with rage at his sister. “Don’t you dare walk out of that door. You are staying here. With me. That’s final.”

Mickey shook his head sadly. “It’s okay.”

Fiona felt the waves of anger rolling off Ian and knew she needed to fix this. She stepped over to where Mickey stood on the bottom step and smiled warmly. “I don’t want you to go. Ian wants you here. This is his home too. Go back to bed and Ian will bring up some pancakes.”

Mickey hesitated, biting his lip. Finally he huffed and turned around, stomping up the steps. “One day you gotta let me have my dignity Gallagher.”

“Not today, Satan.” Ian called after him. 

“Don’t forget the coffee.”

When he was upstairs Ian turned to Fiona and lowered his voice. “He’s important, Fi. I need you to treat him like he’s one of us.”

“Okay.” She nodded in agreement. “But you gotta tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. After breakfast.” 

Mickey was under the covers when Ian returned with a plate stacked with banana pancakes and a large mug of coffee. 

“Hey. Sit up.”

Mickey shuffled slowly so he rested against the wall and took the mug. “Thanks.”

“Fiona wasn’t saying that about you personally. She just worries about stuff. Money, mostly. Frank doesn’t exactly fulfil his parental duties around here.”

Mickey nodded once. “I get it.”

Ian climbed back into bed beside him and set the plate down on the comforter. “You’re welcome here. That’s it. End of story.”

Mickey responded by drinking his coffee and eating his pancakes until he was so full he had to take another nap. 

Ian was back on shift the day after Mickey moved in with him. He got dressed in the bedroom while Mickey was buried under the covers, watching him closely for a glimpse of something to make his day more interesting. Since their interrupted almost-blowie the previous day, Mickey had been on edge and hornier than ever before. This was a new feeling for him. When his own hand was the only option it was a lot easier to lose the inclination to bother at all. Now that Ian was around and showing an interest Mickey’s dick was starting to rouse itself more often. 

“So I’m just meant to hang around here until you get back?” 

Ian buttoned up his shirt. “You do what you would normally do when you’re at home. When does your dialysis start up again?”

“Tomorrow.”

“So get some rest, watch some tv and avoid any harebrained scheme Carl suggests to you. Easy.”

Ian leaned down and pressed his lips to Mickey’s forehead as he grabbed his eyes from the nightstand. “See you tonight.”

Mickey wanted to beg him not to leave. He wanted to plead with Ian to stay next to him and make him laugh like he always did, even if he only allowed it to be on the inside. It wasn’t a good idea though. He couldn’t have Ian knowing that he needed him now. It would be much harder later on down the line if Ian knew just how vital he’d become to Mickey. So he watched him leave with a sadness filling the empty void in his chest. 

The house was quiet when Mickey woke up again. He padded out onto the landing and strained to hear downstairs for noises that might indicate he wasn’t alone. When he was satisfied he grabbed his bag and went to the bathroom. He was desperate for a shower and felt so much better once he was clean. In the steamed up room he set up his kit to on the edge of the sink, pushing down the towel around his waist and preparing to inject his insulin. 

“What the _fuck_?” Fiona shrieked from the hallway, where she stood stock still and glaring at him. Mickey glanced between her and the syringe in his hand and sighed heavily. 

“It’s not what...”

“You’re doing drugs in my bathroom?! Get the fuck out. Jesus Christ!” Fiona yelled. 

Mickey was starting to feel giddy, he’d slept through his usual timetable for injecting and he hadn’t eaten yet, so he ignored her and pressed on. “I just need to...” He murmured while he deftly administered the insulin he needed into his abdomen. When he was done he tossed the syringe into the small sharps box he carried around in his bag. 

Fiona was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by him working his way around injecting himself with apparent ease. “What is that shit?”

Mickey felt the immediate rush and gripped the sink. “Insulin.”

Fiona instantly deflated and lurched forward, standing just inside the bathroom. “Oh God. I’m sorry.”

Mickey smiled weakly. “It’s cool. Perfectly normal reaction to seeing some hood rat shooting up in your bathroom.”

Fiona blushed. “I didn’t realize.”

“Guess Ian hasn’t given you my life story yet huh.”

“He’s been very careful to avoid me.” Fiona smiled. “You need to eat now right?”

Mickey frowned but nodded. “Yeah.”

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs.”

He watched her reel around and leave, completely bemused by her reaction. And like he always seemed to do now when he was given an order by a Gallagher...he obeyed. 

Fiona had made a huge turkey sandwich by the time Mickey made it to the kitchen. 

“Mayo?”

“Sure.”

She pushed the finished plate over to where he sat at the breakfast bar. “Eat up.”

Mickey picked at the bread, nibbling slowly. “Thank you.”

“So...tell me about yourself Mickey.”

Mickey shrugged and shifted in his seat. “What do you wanna know?”

“How did you meet Ian?”

“At the clinic. Where I go for dialysis.”

“Oh.” Fiona was stunned. “Okay.”

“He really didn’t tell you?”

Fiona shook her head slightly. “Ian is very private. He respects other people’s privacy too.”

Mickey absorbed that and nodded. “He kept coming back. Every week.”

“Sounds like Ian. So...kidneys?”

“Yup. Totally fucked. Need a transplant but I’m nowhere near the top of that list.”

Fiona sucked in her breath through her teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.”

“What about Ian? What’s going on with him?”

This time Mickey’s blush was unmistakable. “I...uh...”

“I don’t need details. You like him?”

Mickey nodded once, very small. It was enough for Fiona. She smiled brightly and poured a glass of water for Mickey. 

“Okay.” She accepted. “House rules: we clean up after ourselves. We make sure we replace the milk when it runs out. We don’t give Liam sugar after dinner time. We do not encourage Carl when he tells us he has a great plan. You’re added to the family night rota. On that night you get to pick what we watch and what we order for dinner. Any of those things sound like a problem?”

Mickey smirked at the eldest Gallagher. “Think I can manage.”

“Good. Happy to have you with us.” Fiona clinked her water glass against his. 

Ian was giving Mickey space. Or at least trying to give him space. He didn’t want him to think he’d been moved in so Ian had sex on tap. He understood Mickey’s health was the most important thing but that didn’t stop him waking up with a boner that could stop a bullet every morning just because Mickey was alongside him. The first week passed pretty smoothly. Way smoother than anyone would’ve predicted. On the seventh day Mickey woke up feeling more comfortable, refreshed and alive than he had done in years. He found Ian was already awake beside him, browsing social media on his phone. 

“Morning.” Ian smiled softly. 

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

Ian grinned wickedly. “Good enough to fool around?”

Mickey laughed happily. “What did you have in mind?”

“Take off your pants and I’ll show you.”

Mickey moved as fast as possible to shuck off his boxers and lay back, hands behind his head. 

“Damn. That’s hot as fuck.” Ian mumbled as he pulled back the covers and gazed at Mickey’s naked body. The older man tried to cover up but Ian held firm. 

“What?”

“I feel...” Mickey whispered and closed his eyes. “Ugly.”

Ian’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Ugly? What? How? You’re...fuck Mickey...you’re perfect!”

Mickey was taken aback by his vehemence. He looked at Ian’s face and found no trace of anything other than sincerity. It made his whole body tingle and heat up. 

“You’re beautiful Mick.” Ian lowered his head and kissed down Mickey’s torso, paying extra attention to the marks left on his skin by years of injections. His tongue flicked inside Mickey’s belly button while his hands stroked his soft hips. “The things I wanna do to you...”

“Do it.” The hoarse whisper was followed by hips lifting from the bed. 

Ian grasped that green light for all he was worth. He carefully curled his fingers around Mickey’s semi and tugged gently. The whimper from Mickey was enough to make Ian hard as steel in his own pants. It only took a minute before Mickey was at full mast and nobody was more surprised than the man himself. 

“Jesus.”

“Indeed.” Ian grinned cheekily. “What do you want me to do?”

Mickey’s bottom lip trembled. “Suck it.”

“I was hoping you were gonna say that.”

Ian licked a stripe up the thick vein before he closed his mouth around the head, flicking his tongue rapidly over the sensitive glans. Mickey bucked his hips and grabbed for Ian’s hair, tugging on the strands and grounding himself to reality. 

“Oh holy fuck.”

Ian gave it everything he had. His jaw ached and saliva dripped down his chin but he didn’t let up for a moment. Mickey lasted all of two minutes before he was tapping out on the bed. 

“Gonna...blow...” 

Ian heeded the warning but didn’t pull off. Instead, he pulled back enough so that when the eruption came a second later he was able to savor the taste of the man he’d grown so close to. The man he thought he maybe, possibly, loved. When Mickey was drained of the very last drop Ian crawled over him and made a show of swallowing the load in his mouth. He grinned brightly and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. 

“You taste so good.”

“Jesus. Christ.” Mickey gasped, rolling his head from left to right. “That was it. That’s how I died.”

Ian laughed and tickled his ribs. “Dramatic, much?” He flopped down on the bed and reached for Mickey’s hand. His own erection throbbed painfully in his pants but it wasn’t about him. He wasn’t putting any pressure on Mickey to do anything physical. He ignored it and continued to hold Mickey’s hand, smiling to himself when he heard the gentle snores coming from the figure beside him.

Two weeks later and it was Mickey’s turn to choose what they did on family night. Debbie patted the seat next to her and Mickey raised his eyebrow, looking to Ian for help. Ian just laughed and fell into the armchair, dragging Mickey into his lap at the last second. The older man lodged his elbow in Ian’s side and dug deep. 

“Ouch! What was that for?” Ian pouted. 

“Treating me like a damn rag doll.” Mickey retorted and shuffled to get more comfortable in Ian’s personal space. The redhead waited patiently and then wrapped his arms around Mickey’s middle, holding him securely in place. Carl piled in next with two buckets of popcorn, taking his spot on the floor in front of the sofa. Fiona shoved Debbie down she could sit with Dan and canoodle when the lights went down. Liam was stretched out on the floor in front of the tv. 

“What did you pick for us Mickey?” Liam asked, excitedly to have a new dynamic in the group to mix things up. 

“Uh...” Mickey started nervously and Ian held on a little tighter. “I picked my favorite movie from when I was a kid. Monsters Inc.”

All eyes in the room stared at Mickey, who blushed and buried his face in Ian’s shirt. “I know it’s lame. But I used to watch it all the time with my sister.”

“I love that film!” Debbie cried excitedly. “I haven’t seen it in ages!”

“That the one with the big blue thing that collects the screams?” Carl grinned and Debbie nodded. “No way! That’s so cool!”

“I haven’t seen it.” Liam smiled, happy to be getting something new to try. Having Mickey with them working out well already for the youngest Gallagher. “Let’s go!”

Ian caught Fiona’s eye a moment later when the opening credits started. She gave a tiny, knowing smile which he returned with a wink. It was all falling into place with Mickey. Now it was just a case of keeping him around. 


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ups and downs, it’s just a part of life.

It was a few weeks after Mickey arrived that Ian broached the subject of kidney donation. He waited until Mickey was sleepy, having learned early on that you needed to find a time when at least some of his fire was out before talking about anything heavy. Ian had been burned by the fire too many times by now. 

“So...I was thinking...” Ian started, his voice low and his fingertips dancing lightly over the bare skin of Mickey’s back. 

“Someone alert the fire service.” Mickey mumbled into his pillow. 

Ian ignored him and pressed on. “I’m gonna check my suitability for you.”

“We’re not suited. You’re loud and bossy and ginger. I’m the opposite. See? Definitely not suited.”

Ian rolled his eyes even though Mickey couldn’t see him from where he was sprawled on his stomach. “As a donor match, idiot.”

Mickey raised his head from under the pillow and glared at Ian. “No way. Forget it.”

“Hold up. You need a kidney. I’ve got two. I dunno what it was like in your house but I grew up being told to share my toys.” Ian’s tone was firm. 

“In my house, we didn’t have fuckin toys.” Mickey snapped back. “It’s not happening Gallagher. You’re three months away from finishing your paramedic training.”

“And?” Ian challenged, still stroking his fingers along Mickey’s spine. 

“And nothing is gonna fuck that up.” Mickey replied simply. “So go to sleep and forget it.”

“All I'm saying is that I wanna find out if I’m a match. We can deal with whatever comes of it later.” 

“Ian. No.” Mickey yawned. “Go to sleep.”

Ian sighed heavily and curled up on his side. This was going to take some serious negotiation or some dirty tactics and Ian had a feeling he needed to start thinking tactics. 

It was actually tougher than Ian expected to go behind Mickey’s back and check his suitability. Who knew Chicago took their data privacy laws seriously? When he tried at the clinic he was knocked back immediately and told to get Mickey to put his request through to them. When he called the national register they said the same thing, but a lot slower and wracking up a much higher phone bill. Ian was at a dead end. Enter: Frank Gallagher, meddler extraordinaire. 

“You have a brother at MIT, correct?”

Ian tried to back away from Frank, who had the worst case of halitosis he’d ever encountered. “So?”

“So he’s being taught how to hack for a living! Give him this as, I dunno, work experience! Test his ability!” Frank grinned and lifted the last five pieces of bacon from the plate on the stove. He waved his hand in goodbye and Ian winced when the oil from the bacon flew off in all directions. He bit his tongue and watched Frank leave through the kitchen door, hoping it would be another month before he saw him again. But his idea might not be so crazy after all. With nowhere else to turn, Ian grabbed his coat and left Mickey a note on top of the bacon sandwich he’d wrapped up for his breakfast later. 

Sue glanced sideways at Ian as he ate his lunch in the rig. He’d been quiet all morning and their shift was going to be long and painful if he didn’t start interacting with her soon. 

“I gotta shock you with the defib to get anything outta you today?”

Ian smiled weakly. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”

“Oh? Anything Auntie Sue can help with?”

“Nah. Not really.” Ian sighed. “I’ve been seeing this guy...”

“Ah-ha! Romantic problems! Lay it on me.” Sue wiggled her fingers expectantly and Ian laughed. 

“There’s no romantic issues. There’s barely any romance! Mickey is sick...”

Her expression grew serious. “Not...”

“Jesus! No! I’m gay so it must be AIDS?” Ian glared at his partner. 

Sue held up her hands. “Hey, I’m old enough to remember the 80’s. When a guy said he was sick, it only really meant one thing.”

“Well it’s not that.” Ian sighed, marginally appeased. “He needs a kidney transplant. He’s diabetic and his kidney function is shot to shit.”

“Oh no, that’s awful.” Sue reached out and squeezed Ian’s arm. “How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know!” Ian laughed loudly. “I can’t tell if he’s a grumpy, awkward asshole because of his health problems or if I’ve just managed to fall for the meanest guy in Chicago.”

“Wow!” Sue chuckled. “You always did know how to pick them.”

Ian frowned. “Caleb wasn’t so bad...”

“Caleb made you feel like a freak for knowing your true self to the point that you almost had sex with a woman and then threw up in my kitchen sink when you told me about it.” Sue raised her eyebrows in challenge. 

“Okay. Bad example. But Trevor was a good...”

“Do not even finish that sentence if you’re about to say Trevor was a good guy! He was a manipulative, self-absorbed asshole who made you feel like a worthless twink. He was the opposite of a good guy!”

“He was?”

“Yes! That shit he pulled with your mom? The whole ‘she said sorry, get over it’ shit? Jesus Christ. For a counselor he has zero empathy.”

“You know, I think it’s a possibility that I over-share aspects of my life with you.” Ian grinned at Sue, the woman who had taken him under her wing three years earlier and got him to where he was today. He owed a huge debt of gratitude to his work-wife. 

“All I’m saying is, you’ve been through some assholes...pun intended...so you know the deal. If he’s grumpy at his situation that’s fair and easy to understand. If he’s just an asshole in general then nothing you do will make him happy. That’s the difference, sunshine. You’ll know when you know.”

Just then Ian’s phone beeped in his pocket. He retrieved it and read his message, a huge smile lighting his face. 

“ _Thanks for breakfast, Red. Hope you have a good day saving lives. I’ll make dinner tonight and keep it warm for you. Don’t be late. Mx_ ”

Sue giggled at his expression. “Dick pic?”

“Better.” Ian smiled dreamily. 

“An asshole pic?” Sue frowned in thought. 

“A thank you.” He replied happily. “And now I know.”

Sue squeezed his bicep. “Glad to hear it.”

It took less time that Ian expected for Lip to get back to him. He called when Ian was disinfecting the rig at the end of his shift, having just sent Sue away to have dinner with her husband for the first time that week. 

“Hey brother.” Lip greeted when Ian answered. “It’s a good thing your boy has got an unusual name since you gave me fuck all to work with...but I guess there’s only one Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich living in the Chicago area. Date of birth August 10th ‘94. Sound right?”

“Yep. That’s him. What you got?” Ian confirmed. 

“I got his records. Holy shit Ian. You’d pick the fuckin three-legged donkey in the Kentucky Derby wouldn’t you?” Lip sighed heavily. 

“Probably.” Ian laughed softly, unable to deny it. “But as far as donkeys go, he is pretty hung.”

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” Lip muttered. “I’m gonna email over his status. Take it to the clinic where we got tested and ask for Maura. She’ll hook you up with a match check off the books.”

“Lip, I know I don’t say it enough but you’re the best big brother I’ve got.” Ian replied with a sigh of relief. 

“I know you think you’re being funny but with Frank and Monica as parents...there’s a strong chance you have many other big brothers. So I’m gonna take that as a win.”

“Love you Lip.” Ian murmured sincerely. 

“Love you too Ian.” Lip replied. “Take it easy.”

While Ian was busy at work Mickey had to spend a lot of time alone in the Gallagher house. At first he stayed in Ian’s bedroom for the most part but after a couple of weeks he was going stir crazy. So he started to venture downstairs during the day when it was quiet. He’d grown used to the various members of the family and they had grown used to him, but it was still awkward for him to suddenly mix with people when he was used to flying solo. The person in his family he was closest to lived out of state and the person he was physically closest to was Iggy, and the less said about that the better. But this was his home now and he had to make it work, especially when Ian was trying so hard to make him as comfortable as possible. That’s how he found himself watching Air Crash Investigation with Carl every afternoon before the younger man left for his shift at the shrimp place. 

“Safest way to travel? My ass. How many times has the L derailed and killed 300 people?” Mickey muttered to himself. 

“Exactly. I take the bus everywhere. Only thing you gotta fear there is someone tryna jack your phone.” Carl agreed. 

Well that was it. They traded stories of past misdemeanors, both their own and witnessed, for a good hour every day. Carl started including Mickey when he made his lunch and Mickey made an effort to wash Carl’s clothes in with his and Ian’s when there was space in the machine. 

“You’re getting on well with Carl.” Ian stated with a smirk on his face. 

“Hmm. I guess so. I’m going to the restaurant with him tomorrow and trying his new shrimp burger concoction.” Mickey acknowledged, stirring the fajita mix into the vegetables in the pot. 

“Yikes. Lucky you don’t have any issues with your internal organs huh.” 

Mickey kicked out with his foot. “Behave. He’s making an effort. He’s cool.”

“He is. Thank you for making an effort too.” Ian kissed the back of Mickey’s head. Knowing Mickey was distracted hanging out with Carl made it easier for Ian to get to the clinic to find Maura. He snuck away when Mickey was in the throes of Shark Week with Carl and Liam and drove to the clinic. Maura met him at the reception desk and took him into a family meeting room. 

“Okay. Let me load up your test results.” She uttered the first words to him of the day. 

“Thanks. I appreciate this.”

“I owed a friend a favor. It’s being called in.” She shrugged casually. “You have the other data to cross check?”

Ian opened his email and passed it across the table. Maura scanned it rapidly, nodded once and then frowned. 

“Sorry. No match.”

Ian’s stomach flipped. It became clear in his clouded mind that he hadn’t prepared mentally for anything other than giving Mickey a kidney. 

“What? Are you sure?”

Maura arched her brow. “Of course I’m sure. You’re a blood match but you only have three markers for the tissue match. No go.”

Ian started to shake. “Um. Okay.”

Maura read the devastation on his face and softened. “I’m sorry. Not the news you wanted...”

Ian swiped at his left eye to stop the sudden tear that formed. “Uh. No. Not really. But thanks.”

“I really am sorry. It’s tough not being able to help the people you love.” Maura sighed. 

“Yeah.” Ian replied hollowly and rose to leave. The drive home was spent putting his game face on so Mickey didn’t suspect anything had happened. 

“What’s up with you?” Mickey asked immediately. Ian hadn’t even made it all the way into the room. He shook his head and smiled. 

“Nothing. I’m fine. Been to the pharmacy and got your meds. Everything cool here?”

Liam was lounging on the sofa. “Mickey is so cool. He showed me how to count cards today.”

Ian laughed, trying with all his might to be normal instead of absolutely devastated. “That could come in handy one day.”

Mickey let it go and Ian made it all the way to bedtime before he mentioned it again. They were tucked up and making out a little when Mickey brought it up again. 

“You’re tense as fuck, man. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

Mickey’s hand slipped under the covers and squeezed Ian’s dick. “Too tired?”

The last few days had seen an improvement in Mickey’s energy levels that meant he was able to stay awake long enough to jerk Ian off before they went to sleep. It wasn’t nearly enough for Mickey but more than enough for Ian. The redhead covered Mickey’s hand with his own to still it. 

“Tomorrow.” 

Mickey sat up in the bed, dragging the covers off Ian. “Okay. Now I know there’s something going on. You never turn down the chance to get your rocks off. What’s going on?”

Ian exhaled slowly. He was backed into a corner and now he had to explain so Mickey didn’t murder him. “I went to the clinic today. I’m not a match.”

Once the words were out there Ian closed his eyes and waited for the torrent of anger to flow his way. When Mickey didn’t speak he opened his eyes and found the older man staring at him with his mouth open. 

“I know. Before you say anything. I know.” Ian groaned. 

Mickey didn’t utter a word as he got out of bed. Ian’s eyes followed him, still expecting an explosion of epic proportions. It didn’t come. Mickey simply dressed in his jeans and sweatshirt and grabbed his bag. Ian leapt up and held out his hand to stop him. 

“What are you doing? Where are you going?”

Mickey moved around him in the small room and picked up his few belongings scattered around the room. 

“Don’t do this Mick.”

“You did this, Ian. You did. I told you no. You went behind my back, invaded my privacy and did exactly what you wanted to do regardless. This isn’t a game, Ian. This is my life!”

Ian took a step back, winded by his words. “I know...”

“You don’t know! All you know is that you fuck people over to get your own way. You think I can live like that? Knowing that whatever I say, you’re gonna find a way to disrespect me and make it all about Ian anyway? Fuck, man, that’s not gonna happen.” Mickey stuffed the bag full of his stuff. 

“I wanted to help!”

“And I said no!”

“I don’t understand you, Mickey! You’re sick. You need help. Why wouldn’t you want me to help you if I could?”

Mickey glowered at Ian. “Whatever the reason, it is MY choice. Not yours. You don’t get to decide.”

“I’m sorry...”

“You’re sorry you got caught. You’re so busy trying to save the world...”

Ian cut him off angrily. “I was trying to save you!”

Mickey continued, unconcerned by the interruption. “You’re so busy trying to save the world!”

“You _are_ my world, you fucking moron!” Ian shrieked at the top of his voice. 

Mickey laughed bitterly. “I wish I knew what to say to that.”

“You don’t need to say anything. You just need to understand why I did it. It was never meant to upset you or make you angry. It was only meant to help.” Ian murmured softly. 

“I understand. And I also understand that I can’t be with someone who doesn’t know how to listen to what I need. I need you alive, Ian. Whether I’m walking this earth or not, I need you alive. My choice. My body. My rules. So I’m gonna walk away now before anyone gets hurt worse than we already have.”

“Mickey. Please don’t leave.” Ian pleaded, tears filling his eyes. 

The door closed and Mickey was gone. 

It took a while for Ian to process what he’d done. Mickey was, presumably, back in his shit hole apartment with the damp spots and faulty heating while Ian had to go about his life without him. Work was tough but with Sue trying to cheer him up with inane jokes and distraction techniques he muddled through. It had been a month since he let Mickey walk away. His texts went unanswered and his calls were sent straight to answerphone. Mickey wanted nothing to do with him and it was slowly killing Ian from the inside out. Fiona had long passed being worried about him and couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. 

“Sweetface, I know you’re worried about him but you’ve gotta try and get back to normal.” She stroked his cheek, grazing her fingers through the soft ginger stubble on his jaw. 

“Fi, I’m fine. It’s just...tough, y’know? I just need to know he’s doing okay.”

Carl popped his head around the corner. “Mickey? He’s okay.”

Ian and Fiona stared at Carl in surprise. “Huh?”

Carl scratched his ear nervously, knowing Ian could blow up. “He’s fine. Well, apart from the usual. He’s okay.”

“And how do you know this?” Fiona asked him. 

Carl sighed and stepped into the room. “I see him.”

“When?” Ian gasped, horrified. 

“Tuesday mornings. We watch a movie. Hang out.”

“Oh.” 

“Wednesdays he comes by the Shack for lunch.”

Ian squinted hard at his younger brother. “Seriously?”

Carl smiled tightly. “And sometimes I hang out with him when he has dialysis. So he doesn’t get bored.”

Ian held his breath for a moment. “Are you fuckin kidding me Carl?”

“He’s my friend!” Carl hissed. “And I didn’t piss him off.”

“You could’ve told me!” Ian yelled. 

Fiona stepped between them to calm the situation. “Carl, you know Ian’s been worked up about Mickey.”

Carl threw his hands in the air. “He doesn’t want to see him. Ian fucked up, not me!”

Ian stomped out of the house and was halfway to Mickey’s house when he realized Carl was right. Nothing had changed. He’d still gone behind Mickey’s back, invaded his privacy and hurt the man he was now utterly convinced he loved. He stopped dead in his tracks and dropped down to sit on the curb. For the first time ever, Ian felt the invisible force pushing down on him. The feeling Mickey had tried to explain before and Ian never really understood. He got it now though, when it was all a little too late. Ian reached for his cellphone and dialled Mickey’s number. 

“What, Gallagher?” Mickey answered with a snap. There was no real heat to it but it still hurt Ian deeply. 

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. You were right. I didn’t consider you in all of this and I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m not gonna call anymore. But you can always call me. Whenever you need anything. I’ll always answer. Okay?”

Mickey coughed to clear his throat. “Okay.”

“Bye Mick. Take care.”

“You too, Gallagher.”

Ian hung up and burst into tears right there on the curb. 


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey makes a decision and life gets in the way.

Carl hated the atmosphere he had created at home. Ian was pissed at first but now he was just sad. It was like someone had flicked a switch and the lights had gone off inside him. After a couple of weeks of being ignored, Carl approached Ian to fix what he had broken. 

“I fucked up. I’m sorry.” He sat down on the porch next to his elder brother and handed over the joint he’d brought along. 

Ian glared at the object and then at Carl. “I get drug tested at work.”

Carl grinned impishly and took it back, switching it for a standard cigarette from his pocket. “More for me.”

Ian lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Haven’t smoked in weeks.”

“Good for you.”

“Quit when Mickey was here.”

Carl sighed and sucked in a lungful from the joint. “I shoulda told you I still saw Mickey. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. You should’ve told me. But it wouldn’t have changed anything. You should hang out with him.”

“Things really over with you two?”

“Yeah. I think so. I really fucked up.” Ian admitted. 

“You were doing it for the right reasons.”

“Maybe. But he still asked me not to and I did it anyway. Behind his back. Without talking to him about it. That’s my problem, Carl. Every fuckin time. I just push and push and push. I don’t blame him for leaving.”

Carl shook his head sadly. “Want me to talk to Mickey about it?”

Ian blew out some smoke. “No. I need to face up to it. I was just so convinced I would be a match and that the sneaking around would be forgotten when I could help him...”

“Life sucks.” Carl muttered. 

“And then some.” Ian agreed. 

“We okay?”

“Course we are.” Ian’s shoulder nudged Carl’s. 

“Good. I can only be fighting with one sibling at a time and I swear to god Debbie has been way ahead in the line.”

Ian laughed softly. “Okay. Go get her.”

Mickey wasn’t faring much better himself. He missed Ian so badly he wasn’t sure how he lived all those years before without him. The idiot ginger asshole was a pushy motherfucker but at least he cared enough about him to completely disregard his privacy and personal opinion. Yep. That’s how much he missed him. He was looking for positives in what he would tell his sister was toxic behavior if it was her in the scenario. He was fucked. He was distracted from another bout of moping by a knock at his door and he opened it to find Carl on the other side, his arms filled with a KFC bucket and a huge bottle of soda. 

“What’s the password?” Mickey said, no hint of mockery. 

“Shutthefuckupandletmeinbeforethechickengetscold.” Carl retorted with a grin and pushed his way inside. 

Mickey closed the door and went to grab some plates from the kitchen. “What’s all this?”

“I was hungry and you don’t eat unless it’s put in front of you.” 

“Fuck off.”

“I will when you will.”

Mickey laughed and grabbed a drumstick. “How’s things?”

“Alright. Ian found out I still hung out with you and lost his shit but we’re okay now.” Carl answered, playing dumb but watching from the corner of his eye for a reaction. He wasn’t disappointed. Mickey’s eyes widened slightly before he schooled his features to be blank. 

“Good. You shouldn’t be fighting.”

“I know. But you can’t really fight with Ian. He just ignores you and gives you the chin.”

Mickey gave in to a burst of laughter. “Oh man. The chin.”

“You know he’s pissed when the chin comes out. But we figured things out. He was mostly just pleased to hear you’re doing okay.” Carl again busied himself looking for some gravy while Mickey absorbed that. The human race did Carl a huge disservice by assuming he was dumb. Sure, he might set things on fire more than was normal and he wouldn’t know how to file taxes for shit but he knew the human condition better than most. Being in the middle of a huge pack meant he never got any attention from his errant parents. He saw what that could do. So people? Yeah. He knew how to read people. 

“Plus he always goes quiet when he knows he’s done wrong.” He added for good measure. 

Mickey huffed. “Sure.”

“Well whatever. He’s not perfect but he’s Ian. We just accept him for all the good stuff.” Carl shrugged and immediately changed the subject to sports. Carl knew he’d hit home when Mickey didn’t even argue when Carl ragged on the Sox. After the bucket was demolished Carl made his excuses and left, knowing Mickey would have Ian on his mind for the rest of the day. 

“I’m just saying...if you had been a match there’s no way he would’ve turned your kidney down so I think he’s being an over-sensitive ass.” Lip handed a beer each over the stove top to Ian and Fiona before leaning against the sink. 

“That’s not fair. He didn’t want me to take the risk.” Ian frowned. 

“What risk?” Lip snorted. “He’s just choosing to be an ass because there’s nothing in it for him.”

Fiona shook her head and raised her bottle to point at Lip. “That’s definitely not fair. Mickey isn’t like that. He’s...I dunno...he was thrown into this with no warning. This family dynamic. Having people that care about you. He’s not used to it. He’s a lone wolf!”

Ian nodded rapidly. “That’s it. That’s it exactly!”

“Lone wolf?” Lip repeated incredulously. “I’ve heard it all now!”

“Seriously. I never really thought about it like that but it’s totally true!” Ian argued. 

“He’s looked out for himself for a long time, Lip. And being sick on top of that. He just didn’t get a chance to adjust before Ian pulled an Ian.” Fiona added. 

Ian nodded along and then gasped. “Hey!”

“It’s true!” Fiona giggled. “I’m sorry but it is.”

“I know.” Ian hung his head sullenly. 

Lip shook his head in dismay. Fiona gulped down some beer before she addressed him. 

“You weren’t here, Lip. It might seem weird but you weren’t around when he was here. He, I dunno, changed us.”

Ian rubbed his eyes and stood up. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

Lip watched his brother head upstairs and sighed. “He gonna be okay?”

Fiona bit her lip. “I guess he’s gotta be.”

Mickey had decided, when lying in bed for three hours trying to ignore the erection that had popped up when he “accidentally” scrolled through his camera roll and found a photo of Ian with no shirt on, that he couldn’t continue as he had been. He’d tried forgetting Ian even existed and that didn’t work. He tried to remember the feeling of anger when he found out Ian had broken the law and sourced his medical records for the sole purpose of doing something Mickey had in no uncertain terms told him not to do. That didn’t work either. It seemed like the anger had faded quite quickly and had been replaced with intense longing for the person he’d lost. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a spontaneous erection without Ian being around to help it along. With an annoyed thump to his crotch, he rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes, thinking of what he would say when he saw Ian again. Because, really, what else could he do? He had to see him. Anything else just wasn’t an option anymore. 

“This stops now.” He growled angrily to himself. 

Except all thoughts of a great, romantic reunion were quickly put on hold a few hours later when Mickey woke up feeling like a freshly stomped on pile of crap. He pulled the covers over his head and went back to sleep. 

Carl pounded on Mickey’s door furiously and peered through the window when he didn’t answer. It wasn’t like Mickey. For all he pretended Carl’s visits were nothing but an irritating disturbance, Carl knew Mickey actually enjoyed them. And he wouldn’t leave him on the street even if he was annoyed. Carl tried the door handle and found it was locked. 

“You’d better not be dead, Milkovich.” He muttered as he made his way around to the back. He saw the bathroom window open and glanced around for witnesses who might shoot him if he looked like he was breaking in. When he was happy it was safe, Carl channeled his past B&E experience and hauled himself into Mickey’s apartment. 

“Mickey?”

He went from the bathroom to the living room and then popped his head into the kitchen. Nothing. With only one more room to try he held his breath and opened the door to the bedroom. A lump under the covers made Carl’s stomach swoop. 

“Mickey? MICKEY!” Carl yelled and edged closer. 

The lump groaned and Carl felt a wave of relief that nearly took his knees away from under him. He pulled back the covers gingerly. “You okay?”

“Fuck off.”

“Not dead then.” Carl joked, his Southside humor returning with Mickey’s grunting. 

“Feels like it.”

“Jesus Mick. You’re sweaty as fuck.”

Mickey tried to bury himself deeper into the mattress. “Leave me alone. I’ll be fine in while.”

Carl yanked on the sheet to reveal Mickey’s face and almost stumbled back. He did not look good. 

“Fuck Mickey. You’re sick.”

“I’m always sick.”

Carl knew he would get nowhere with Mickey so he left the room and grabbed his cellphone. 

Ian was on shift but not busy when Carl called him. 

“What’s up?” He greeted cheerfully. 

“It’s Mickey. He’s sick.”

Ian felt his back stiffen with fear. “Okay. What’s he like?”

“Sweating.”

Ian groaned internally. “Fuck. What color is he?”

Carl hesitated. “Uh...what?”

“He’s got two settings. Casper or Bart Simpson. Who is he most like right now?” Ian demanded. 

“Bart. Definitely Bart.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Ian groaned aloud this time. “Stay with him. I won’t be long.”

Ian was normally a safe driver but that day everything went out of the window. He raced across town in his ambulance, having left Sue behind at base, and pulled up at Mickey’s place less than twenty minutes after Carl’s mayday call. 

“What’s going on?” Carl followed him to the bedroom. 

Ian pulled back the covers and dropped to his knees to check on Mickey. “What the fuck are you doing? Pretending this isn’t happening?”

Mickey smiled dreamily. “You look hot as fuck in that uniform.”

Ian glowered at Carl when he snickered and checked Mickey’s pulse. It was fast and his skin was clammy, slightly yellow and puffy. “Carl, grab my bag. I need Levofloxacin. Look through the left side. It will be in a small bottle.”

“Ian?” Mickey mumbled and reached out his hand. “Am I dreaming again?”

Ian grabbed the bottle from Carl and quickly administered a shot of antibiotics to Mickey’s arm. He cringed at the whimper of pain and stroked Mickey’s hair back from his forehead. “You had your insulin today?”

Mickey’s eyes cracked open and he squinted at Ian. “Are you really here?”

“Jesus is he hallucinating?” Carl gasped. 

Ian lowered his face to be closer to Mickey. He smiled reassuringly and continued to stroke his cheek. “I’m here, Mick. You’re doing fine. I’m gonna need to take you to the hospital...”

“No!” Mickey cut him off. “I don’t wanna go. I just want Ian to take care of me. Ian knows what to do. Ian loves me.”

It was only the adrenaline of the situation that stopped Ian from bursting into tears. Instead, he pressed his lips to Mickey’s forehead and lowered his voice to a quiet whisper. “He does. He loves you very much.”

“He’s weird.” Mickey exhaled shallowly. “He makes me so mad. I want to be mad at him but I can’t. I miss him.”

Ian glanced around to Carl, who was hovering nervously by the door. “Get me a glass of water and a towel.”

When Carl darted away, delighted to be doing something useful, Ian pulled back the covers from Mickey and helped him cool off. He was too warm and the infection was raising his heart rate. 

“I miss you too, Mick. So damn much. I need to get you to a hospital.”

“Will Ian be there? I just want Ian.”

A tear slid down Ian’s face. “He’ll be there.”

“Okay. We can go.” Mickey’s face contorted into a twisted, pained smile that just broke Ian’s heart all over again. 

Mickey fell asleep again after a drink of water and Ian was about to move him to the ambulance when his phone rang. It was Sue and he hit connect with great apprehension. Rightly so, as it turns out. 

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

Ian sucked in a breath. “I can explain.”

“Go on then. Explain. Explain where you took off to in our fucking rig!” She yelled. 

“It’s Mickey. I need to get him to the hospital. He’s got an infection.”

“What? I thought that was over...”

“Yeah. Me too. But he’s sick and I need to help him.”

Sue sighed heavily and Ian felt really bad. If anyone knew that he’d gone rogue with the ambulance it wouldn’t just be his job on the line. His partner and her impeccable record would be trashed too. 

“You owe me big time for this, Gallagher. Big time.” Sue warned. “Pick me up on the way to St Jude’s.”

“Thanks Sue.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m still about to kick your ass.”

While Mickey was being hooked up to a drip and being fed antibiotics, Ian was left in the corridor with Carl and Sue. 

“You gonna kick my ass now?” He smirked a little. 

Sue shook her head. “No. He’s in a bad way. You did the right thing.”

“This keeps happening.” Ian groaned and rubbed his face tiredly. “He needs a kidney now. He’s fading away in front of me.”

Carl leaned against the glass separating them from Mickey and the doctors. “I wanna get tested.”

Ian looked over in surprise. “You do?”

Carl smiled weakly. “I remember how bad I felt when I couldn’t donate to help Frank. God knows how you’re feeling right now. You actually like Mickey. If I can help, I want to.”

“You’ve helped plenty. He’d still be at home now if you hadn’t called in.” Ian frowned. 

“I can do more.” He promised. “I’ll go to the clinic. See the lady Lip knows.”

“Mickey will never speak to you again.” Ian warned him. 

“He will. And even if he doesn’t, it’ll be worth it to know for sure.” Carl shrugged.

With a hug, his brother was gone and Sue was left to physically drag Ian back to work before anyone noticed they were gone. 

Mickey responded well to the antibiotics over the following 48 hours. It was a low level infection exacerbated by a cold he’d picked up. He tried to recall exactly what had occurred over the last couple of days but all he could picture in his mind was Ian. Had he seen Ian? Was he just dreaming about him all the time now that it was just normal to see him in his mind? Mickey’s brain-trawling came to an end when Carl burst into the room with Ian behind him, both smiling widely. 

“We got news, bitch.” Carl bounced on the spot. 

“Oh? I’m fine, thanks for asking. Nice of you to drop by to give me your gossip.” Mickey rolled his eyes. 

“Shut the fuck up and listen.” Ian grinned. 

Mickey’s eyebrows twitched, completely lacking the energy required to arch properly. “I’m all ears.”

“We went back to the clinic.” Carl burst out excitedly. “And before you say anything, I give as much of a shit about privacy laws as Ian does so don’t waste your breath being angry at us.”

Mickey’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ shape as Carl barrelled on. “And the nurse lady was so happy to see Ian I thought she was gonna explode on the spot. When he was there last time she clicked to add him to a register by mistake and it flagged up that he’s a match for this chick in Minnesota who is desperate for a kidney. So we did a little digging and her husband is a match for Frank! They’re gonna swap kidneys.”

Mickey bobbed his head to keep up. “Uh...okay..”

Ian kicked Carl in the knee. “You missed off the most important part!”

Carl gasped and reeled back to Mickey. “Oh! Yeah! I’m a match for you. You can have one of my kidneys. A little smoke damaged but pretty much in full working order.”

Mickey’s jaw dropped open. “I...what? No. I can’t.”

“You can and you will. I talked it all through with the nurse. I know the drill.”

Mickey struggled to sit up and failed, slumping back on his pillows. “I can’t let you do it. You know how risky it is?”

“Yep. 1 in 3,000 donors die.” Carl shrugged without concern. 

“Exactly!!” Mickey hissed. 

“Mickey, dude. We’re South Side. Anything over 21 is a bonus. I’m happy with the odds. We’re gonna daisy chain the shit outta this kidney swapping.”

Ian stood back and watched as Carl masterfully manipulated and breezed over Mickey’s protests. It was a sight to behold. Carl reached out and fist bumped Mickey. 

“I’ll leave you guys alone.” He winked and ducked out of the room. 

Mickey glared at Ian. “You do this?”

Ian shook his head. “Nope. It was all Carl’s decision. I think it freaked him out to see you so sick.”

Mickey folded his hands across his middle. “I really can’t catch a break with you Gallaghers.”

Ian chuckled softly. “Nope. You can’t. So get used to it.”

Mickey didn’t respond and Ian could see him fighting sleep. He stepped to the side of the bed and dropped a kiss onto Mickey’s dry lips. 

“Get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow when they let you out. And I’m not gonna take no for an answer. You’re coming home with me. For good. You’re giving up that shit hole apartment and you’re coming home. Got it?”

Mickey opened his eyes slowly. “Don’t sound like I’ve gotta choice.”

Ian smiled, almost weak with relief that Mickey wasn’t going to argue with him. “You don’t. Goodnight Mick.”

“Night Gallagher.” Mickey yawned. 

He was asleep before Ian even closed the door behind him. 


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl eases Mickey’s fears and Ian finds a way to surprise Mickey before their lives change forever.

Ian felt eyes on him as he undressed in his bedroom. “What?” 

“I need a recap. I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking the last few days.”

Ian giggled happily at Mickey’s bewildered expression as he settled into Ian’s bed once again after being released from hospital. “I guess it has been a lot to take in.”

Mickey smiled, his tiredness etched on his beautiful face. “I dunno if I’ve dreamed most of it.”

“You didn’t. It’s all real. Carl is still kinda nervous that you’re gonna kick his ass.” Ian crawled into the gap next to Mickey in the bed. “He did exactly what I did, after all.”

“As soon as I have enough energy to raise my fists, I’ll be looking for him.” Mickey warned with a smile. 

“You’re not really mad at him...are you?” 

Mickey found Ian’s hand and pulled it to his chest. “What difference would it make? I know you Gallaghers better by now. You just go your own way.”

Ian rolled over so he was pressed along Mickey’s side. “I don’t want you to feel pushed into anything.”

Mickey rested his head on Ian’s chest, the soft red hairs tickling his nose. “We need to talk properly later. These meds are making me blurry.”

Ian held him tight and kissed his head. “Okay. Sleep now.”

It was fourteen hours later when Mickey woke up. The bed was empty but he heard noises downstairs so he followed the voices. Ian was in his uniform, sipping coffee and talking to Fiona. 

“Hey Sweetpea. How are you feeling?” She beamed when she saw him. 

Mickey screwed up his face. “A little nauseous actually. I think it was the Sweetpea that did it.”

Fiona laughed happily. “Sorry. Pet names is a thing around here. Sit down. I’ll make you some coffee.”

Mickey wasn’t going to argue with that and dropped into the armchair while she wandered off to the kitchen. He glanced at Ian and smiled weakly. “You look good.”

“Hot as fuck, some have said.” Ian smirked wickedly and was delighted at Mickey’s adorable blush. 

“You can’t hold that against me. I was fucked up.” Mickey laughed. 

“I know. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Much better. Head is a little fuzzy but I’m okay.”

“Taken your meds?”

“Not yet.”

“Make sure you do.” Ian smiled. 

“Yes Doctor.” 

Ian leaned down and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s forehead. “You’ve got to stay well. They won’t operate on you if you’re not healthy enough.”

Mickey sighed and nodded. “I know. I still need to talk to Carl.”

Ian nodded and perched on the arm of the chair next to him. “Yeah. We’ll catch up with him later and thrash it out.”

“Not the thrashing I really wanna be doing but sure.”

Fiona huffed loudly as she approached. “I always walk in at the wrong point in conversations.”

Mickey chuckled and took the mug of hot coffee from her. “Thanks.”

“Think you can stomach some eggs or has my affection put you off food for the rest of the day?” She grinned. 

“I could eat.” Mickey gave her a shy smile in return. 

“You gonna be okay when I’m at work?” Ian ran his hand down the back of Mickey’s head. 

“Danced this dance before, Red. I’m fine.”

“Good. See you tonight.” Ian got up and went to the front door. “Hey Mick?”

“Yeah?”

“I...uh...I’m glad you’re here.” Ian faltered over saying the L word. 

Mickey smiled and nodded. “Me too.”

Carl really wanted to take a bath. He was physically tired from being on his feet for a double shift and he was mentally exhausted from dodging Lori and her wandering hands all day. The fryer oil was clinging to his pores and he could smell the lingering greasy shrimp aroma that seemed to follow him everywhere. So when Mickey cornered him a minute after he stepped inside the house he was not really in the mood for a deep and meaningful chat. Mickey, however, was not one to be put off by a scowl and the smell of fried seafood and shoved Carl into seat at the dining table and got him a beer. 

“I need to talk to you.”

“I need a bath.”

Mickey glared and still managed to look fairly intimidating. “Well I ain’t doing this while you’re naked so shut up and this will be over quicker for you. Got it?”

Carl gulped his beer and saluted his friend with his middle finger. “Shoot.”

Mickey settled into the chair beside him and leaned on the table. “I need to know what you know about kidney donation.”

Carl frowned, utterly confused. “Open, remove, close, open, remove, replace, close. Did I miss a part?”

Mickey’s hand slammed down on the table top and echoed loudly in the empty house. “Take this shit seriously or I swear to God I will walk out of this house and none of you will ever see me again!”

Carl leaned back in his chair, signature smirk on his face. If Mickey Milkovich thought he could walk in here and out-stubborn Carl Gallagher he was going to find himself very much mistaken. Another middle of the pack trait was you had to wait your turn and not be pushed over. Well, years later Carl was still rocking that mindset. 

“Don’t even pretend like you could walk away from Ian now. He’s under your skin. I heard you when you were sick and I know you’re walking away from him just as much as I am.”

Mickey glowered at the younger man. He was annoyed because it was the truth. Ian _was_ under his skin and there was fuck all he could do about it. 

“I’m scared, Carl.” Mickey went for the truth in place of intimidation. 

“Why?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Why do you think? You’re cutting yourself open for me. Ian is cutting himself open for some random lady we’ve never even met. Anything could go wrong. I could tear this whole family apart by letting you do this.”

“Oh my God stop being so dramatic! We all read the welcome pack when Frank first got told he needed one. Ian knows more about living donation than anyone else who didn’t go to medical school. We are not scared.” Carl enunciated clearly for Mickey. 

Mickey stared into Carl’s eyes. “What if you die?”

Carl snickered. “Can’t give a shit about anything if I ain’t here.”

“And what if you don’t die but Ian does?” Mickey challenged. 

Carl nodded once. “I’d be pissed. At the universe, not you. Look, I hear what you’re saying. But you need to hear me too. Without a kidney you will die. And watching Ian trying to live without you? I would give anything to anyone to avoid that. So rest easy about it.”

Mickey finally - _finally_ \- exhaled and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Can I take a bath now?” Carl grinned. 

“I encourage it. You smell like shit.” Mickey smirked. 

Once the matches were confirmed everything seemed to move so fast. Ian got a call from the hospital to let him know his surgery was set for three weeks time, while Mickey got a call from the Chicago coordinator to schedule him and Carl for two days after Ian’s surgery. Mickey wanted to be next to Ian every waking minute of every day, desperate to be close to him before things could change forever. Ian understood, he really did. But in order to take the time off to go through with the donation it meant he had to work extra shifts and study for his tests. 

“Stay home and l’ll make it worth your while.” Mickey put on his most sultry smile but Ian wasn’t to be swayed. 

“You fell asleep in the middle of a blowjob last night.” 

“It was late!”

“You were blowing me!” 

Mickey laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Not really how I pictured you choking on my dick.”

“Eew.” Mickey shuddered and made Ian laugh. 

Ian pulled Mickey into his arms and kissed him softly. “I have to work. I need to build up some cash for us to be able to have the downtime to recover and spend some time together. And I wanna get our own place soon. Me and you, falling asleep at inappropriate times in your own little space.”

Mickey poked him in the stomach. “I just...”

“I know. You’re nervous and you want to cram in all this time together before in case anything bad happens. But nothing bad is gonna happen. We’re gonna be fine. All of us.”

Mickey held onto him tightly around the middle. “Okay.”

“See you tonight. Date night.”

“What does that mean?” Mickey frowned. 

“It means I get to treat you to the full Ian Gallagher romantic experience.”

“And what can I expect?” 

Ian tapped his bottom lip with his forefinger. “Food, making out, maybe more.”

“Hmm. Think I can deal with that.”

Ian kissed him again. “See you.”

Sue was driving the rig while Ian sat in the back with a homeless drunk they’d picked up three times already that week. 

“And they’re just random people you don’t know?” She yelled through the door to the back, trying to understand what her partner was willing to do. 

“Yeah. Never met them before in my life. It’s crazy!” Ian yelled back. 

“Why would you do this?” Sue was confused. 

“She needs a kidney. Mine is a strong match. Makes sense.”

“Does it?” Sue huffed. 

“Look, I wanted to donate to Mickey. That was my plan. The idea of helping him get better and live a normal life was all I wanted. But this way he’s getting help from Carl and I can help someone else. It all fits.” Ian tried to explain. 

“But Carl would surely donate to Mickey without you needing to get involved?” Sue swung a hard left and Ian had to grab for the guy on the bed so he didn’t topple to the floor. 

“Of course he would. But now I know someone needs mine, I’m obviously not gonna refuse.”

“You’re a bleeding heart, Gallagher. It must be a daily challenge not to let the universe walk all over you.”

Ian chuckled happily. “Got a few boot prints on my back but I’m still walking.”

Ian was always amazed by Mickey’s ability to fall asleep at any given moment. He knew it wasn’t him, it was his complete lack of energy that made him do it. He spent all of it up during the day just moving around and talking that as soon as he got into bed he was sound asleep. It meant Ian could stare at him while he slept without getting a mouthful of abuse for it and that was one of his favorite things in the world. Watching the dancing movement behind his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest, the soft puffs of breath. It was poetry to Ian. He closed his eyes and listened to Mickey’s steady breathing. They had to be up in a few hours to hit the road, not that Mickey knew it yet. Ian had a surprise for him and he was too excited to sleep. 

“The fuck we going, Gallagher?” Mickey grumbled from the passenger seat of Ian’s car. 

“I already told you. It’s a surprise. Shut the fuck up and wait and see.”

Mickey glared at Ian and immediately started to adjust the radio stations until he found a song he was happy with. Ian shot him a look and smirked. 

“Totally didn’t have you down as a Taylor Swift fan.”

“That shit is catchy as fuck.” Mickey shrugged.

They drove in silence for a while, munching on hard candies and watching the world fly by the windows. When they were settled on the interstate Ian reached over and grasped Mickey’s hand, resting it in his lap. 

“You feeling okay?” He asked softly. 

Mickey nodded. “Fine. Best I’ve felt in years actually.”

“Good.” Ian squeezed gently. “Let’s finish playing 20 questions.”

Mickey coughed a laugh. “First you kidnap me and now you wanna bore me to death? I oughta call the cops.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. “You can ask me questions if you prefer.”

“Sure. That makes this better.” Mickey teased. 

“Behave or I’ll drop your ass on the side of the road and you won’t get to enjoy my surprise.”

“Fine!” Mickey laughed. “When did you realize you were gay?”

“Oh easy. I was probably about 12 when I discovered Justin Timberlake. I swear, the Cry Me A River video gave me wet dreams.”

Mickey nodded. “That I can understand. Mine was Leonardo DiCaprio in The Departed. He was totally bad ass.”

“Oh yeah. I see that.” Ian nodded. 

“What was your first time like?” Mickey asked quietly. “You don’t have to answer.”

Ian bit his lip, unsure if he wanted to tell that story. With a deep breath, he explained. “I used to work at a store in the neighborhood. Evenings. Weekends. Holidays. Trying to save as much as we could to pay the bills. Anyway, I guess I was like 15 and the guy who owned the place made it pretty fuckin clear he wanted some. I was young and horny so I thought, why not?”

“Why not?” Mickey repeated incredulously. “How about because you were a kid and he was a grown ass man?”

Ian glanced sideways and smirked at Mickey. “You sound jealous.”

“Fuck that shit, man. I hate sick fucks who wanna mess around with kids!” Mickey snarled in response. 

“It wasn’t like that. Not at the time anyway. I liked him. He was nice. Misguided but nice.” Ian tried to argue but Mickey just shook his head in dismay. 

“Tell me about your first.”

“First ever or first with a guy?”

Ian raised his brows. “It’s different?”

“Oh hell yes!” Mickey laughed, his voice filled with amusement. “My first first time was with my brother’s friend. I was 13 and she was 16. I did it to shut my brothers up.”

“And?” Ian frowned. 

“And what?”

“How was it?”

“Fuckin gross! For the life of me I will never understand the male population’s obsession with tits.” Mickey shuddered and Ian couldn’t control his giggle. 

“And your proper first?

“Bit of a disaster. I fucked a guy in a bathroom at a club in Boystown. I was 16, just getting my head around the diabetes and totally fucked in the head. Don’t really remember much about it.”

Ian’s heart ached and he lifted Mickey’s hand to his lips, kissing where their fingers were laced together. “I guess we both have things in our past we need to forget.”

“Fuck yeah.” Mickey agreed with a snort. “Gallagher, where the fuck are we going? We’ve been driving for four hours.”

“Almost there.” Ian assured him. “One more question.”

Mickey huffed and fell silent when he thought about it. “Uh...who is your favorite sibling?”

Ian’s head whipped to the side. “The fuck kinda question is that?”

Mickey smirked wickedly. “Everyone has a favorite but nobody ever admits to it.”

“Oh my God!” Ian giggled. “I honestly don’t think I do. They all annoy the ever-loving fuck out of me on a regular basis but they all have redeeming qualities. I honestly don’t think I could pick.”

“Bullshit.” Mickey shook his head. 

“Seriously!” Ian argued. “Fiona is all mother hen and forgets she’s my sister sometimes but I wouldn’t be alive today if she didn’t act like my mother when I needed it. She’s saved my ass more times than I can count.”

“Mmm.” Mickey nodded his agreement.

“Lip is the most irritating motherfucker on the planet sometimes. He uses his intelligence to make you feel like you’re an idiot stumbling from one bad decision to the next. But he’s got my back. Always. Unconditionally. I could call him up anytime and ask for help and he would move mountains to do it.” Ian explained with passion. 

Mickey smiled and nodded, shuffling in his seat to get more comfortable. 

“Debbie is the sweetest, most loving person and she’d do anything for anyone who needed help. But somehow she manages to still be one of the most selfish people I’ve ever met.” Ian laughed at the thought. “I swear, she’s one those paradoxes that Lip talks about.”

“Shit. Big words.” Mickey teased, smiling through a huge yawn. 

“I know. Took me a long ass time to work out what he meant. Liam is young and sweet and fun. He can be stubborn sometimes and thinks we don’t “understand” him because he’s black but he’s still got a lot to learn. I don’t think he knows yet that all kids his age have a dislike for the adult control on their lives and it’s got nothing to do with color or culture.”

“Damn right. And Carl?” 

“Carl is the most confusing of all of them. For a long time growing up I thought Carl was special. And not in the nice, brotherly love kinda way. He was forever blowing shit up, experimenting on animals and being a general asshole. But then one day it all clicked into place. He’s never gonna win Jeopardy but he would definitely win Survivor! Carl is as smart as they come. He’s sensitive and wants to do the right thing. He used to fight with Debbie when they were kids over who got to help take care of Frank when his liver packed up. So, yeah, he’s a good guy.”

Ian glanced over at Mickey and smiled at him. Mickey smiled back and closed his eyes. 

“I like Carl. Never really had a friend before. I know I’ve got you but you’re more than a friend. Never had anyone who was just around because they were my friend. It’s nice. He’s nice.”

Ian smiled softly as he listened to Mickey’s sleepy rambling about his brother. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Mickey was already asleep. 

The next time Mickey opened his eyes it was to Ian’s grinning face as he shook him awake. 

“We here?” Mickey murmured groggily and rubbed at his eyes. 

“Almost. But this is the best view. Don’t want you to miss it.” Ian reached across and brushed Mickey’s hair back from his forehead. 

Mickey looked around and squinted as Ian drove on, the tires crunching on gravel. The lane was flanked by trees and blossoming flowers of all different colors. Ahead was a huge fountain that spurted water meters into the air. After taking a left turn at the fountain they were met with a huge country house like Mickey had only ever seen in magazines. 

“The Rose Garden Hotel?” He read the sign out loud and looked to Ian for confirmation. 

Ian smiled shyly. “It’s probably totally dumb but I found it online and thought we could try it. It’s an English-themed hotel. All designed like an English country house with fancy dining rooms and afternoon tea.”

“Afternoon tea?” Mickey frowned deeply. 

“It’s something they do in England. It’s really popular. You’ll see. And all the servers and staff have English accents. I know it’s not London but it’s the closest I could find with the resources I had...” Ian trailed off nervously. 

Mickey took another glance around and turned back to Ian, a huge grin spreading over his face. “You are the lamest romantic fucker on the planet.” He teased. “But it’s so fuckin awesome!”

Ian dissolved into relieved laughter. “Really?”

“Really.” Mickey confirmed. “I mean, I am totally gonna stand out like a white man at a Migos show but fuck it, let’s get our English shit on!”

Mickey, as it turns out, was not wrong. The sheer opulence of the hotel hit them as soon as they parked up and walked into the lobby. The marble counter tops and expensive artwork depicting countryside for miles was the first hint they’d stepped outside of their comfort zone. Ian was ready to grab Mickey by the hand and run back to the car, happy to admit this was a big fucking mistake. The second he took to panic was enough for the receptionist behind the counter to spot the struggle in his eyes and she rose to her feet elegantly and made her way to them. 

“Good afternoon, my name is Olivia Driscoll and it’s a pleasure to welcome you to the Rose Garden. Do you have a reservation with us?”

Ian was immediately relaxed by her friendly greeting, even after her eyes flickered over both of them faster than the speed of light. Her accent was so British that it automatically made Ian feel calm. 

“Uh yes. Thank you. It’s for Gallagher.” Ian blurted. 

Olivia smiled widely. “Wonderful! Come this way and I’ll get you checked in.”

They followed her back to the desk and she clicked some buttons on her keyboard. 

“Oh yes. Mr Gallagher, one double room for two nights. Fantastic. Are you here for a special occasion?” Her smile was genuine and Mickey found himself being weirdly attracted to her, in a equally weird non-sexual way. 

“Sort of. It’s a long story.” Ian smiled apologetically. 

Olivia gave a gentle wave of her hand. “Say no more, that’s your business. Let me see...okay...brilliant. I can upgrade you to the King Edward suite! Personally, this is my favorite room in the entire hotel. You will have picturesque views of the lake and a private balcony. It’s stunning!”

Ian bit his lip and was about to speak when Olivia intuitively understood what he was about to say. “All complimentary, of course.”

Ian exhaled softly and smiled. “Thank you so much.”

“Absolutely no problem at all, Mr Gallagher. Now, I will ask James to show you to your room and bring up your bags. If you need anything at all please do not hesitate to contact reception. Have a great stay with us.” Olivia waved her hand again and a suited and booted young man appeared. With a nod, he picked up their bags and led them to an elevator at the far side of the room. Mickey and Ian followed, silent and slightly intimidated, until they reached the top floor. James opened up the door to their suite and left the key on the side table as he led them inside. 

“Holy fuck.” Mickey blurted out his first words since stepping into the hotel. 

James smiled wryly and set their bags down on the floor by the window, opening up the drapes so they could properly see the view outside. 

“Holy fuck.” Mickey repeated. “Am I even in America right now?”

James chuckled and bowed slightly. “It had to be seen to be believed, sir. Have a great day.”

As he was leaving, Ian passed him ten dollars for a tip. James immediately held up his hand. 

“Oh no, sir. Thank you but that’s not necessary.”

“Really?” Ian was surprised. 

“Absolutely, sir. At the Rose Garden, everything is included in the reservation. I appreciate the thought, however. Enjoy your stay and please call if you need anything.”

When they were alone, the two men stared at each other in disbelief. 

“I feel like I’m tripping in Alice’s Wonderland.” Mickey mumbled. 

“This place is amazing.”

They walked around the suite and took in everything around them. From the huge bed to the gigantic bath tub and then the promised balcony. The stunning view was everything Olivia told them to expect. 

“Wow. That’s a big ass lake.” Mickey gazed out at the early summer garden. 

“This is beyond expectations. Their website low key plays this down!” Ian giggled and pulled Mickey into his side so he could hug him. 

“Did you feel, like, weird about Olivia?” Mickey tried to articulate. 

“Like if she was a guy you’d wanna jump her bones?” Ian gaped. 

“Yeah...”

“Oh my God, you felt it too?” 

Mickey laughed, his deep booming laugh loud in the quiet room. “Trippy as fuck.”

“What do you wanna do first? Hit the spa? Take a nap? Eat?” Ian asked, drawing him closer to kiss him gently. 

“I wanna take a bath in the swimming pool through there.” Mickey pointed to the bathroom. 

Ian chuckled. “Sure. Think I’ll take a nap then.”

Tired from the drive, Ian was fast asleep in seconds. Twenty minutes later Mickey still hadn’t figured out how to get the plug in the bath. 

“Fuckin dumb British fixings...what the fuck?” He grumbled under his breath. 

He didn’t want to wake Ian by ringing down to reception so he pulled his shirt back on and slipped out of the room silently. 

“Mr Gallagher?” Olivia tilted her head for confirmation, smiling brightly when she saw him approach her desk. 

“Just Mickey.” He couldn’t help but smile back, even when he felt stupid as fuck for not knowing to work a bath tub. 

“Mickey, what can I do for you? Is your room suitable?”

“The room is incredible. I’m thinking of staying put and making you go to court to evict me out of there.” He grinned. “But first, can you tell me how to fill the bath tub?”

Olivia tipped her head back and laughed joyfully. “Of course. Would you like me to send James up?”

Mickey shook his head and leaned against the desk. “Nah. Ian’s asleep. It was a long drive. Think you can just draw me a picture?”

“Certainly.” She grabbed her pen and notepad and quickly drew out a quick sketch of how the plug worked. “That should do it.”

“Olivia?”

“Yes Mickey?”

“Are you really British?” He grinned teasingly and she laughed again. 

“Whatever makes you think I’m not British?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Hmm. Well I suppose you will have to believe what you believe.” She smiled brightly. “Would you like to book in for dinner while you’re here?”

Mickey shook his head, a dreamy smile on his face. “Not tonight. We’re gonna order room service.”

“Very good.” She nodded. “May I recommend the filet mignon.”

“The fuck is that?”

If she was at all bothered by his choice of vocabulary it didn’t show. 

“Our house special steak. It is served with roast potatoes, grilled asparagus and peppercorn sauce. Delicious.” She explained. 

“Cool. Thanks.” He nodded. “You know that afternoon tea shit you guys do?”

Again, Olivia was unfazed by his language. She nodded politely. 

“Can I book in for that tomorrow?”

“Of course.” She clicked on her laptop. “We have availability at 12:30, 1:30 or 3 o’clock.”

“Um...” He was stumped. 

Olivia to the rescue once again. “If I may suggest, the later slot will mean you probably won’t be hungry in time for dinner so perhaps an earlier slot is more suitable?”

“Sure. 1:30 please.”

“Absolutely.” She smiled and clicked to confirm his booking. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Mickey grinned. “Nah. I’m good thanks.”

“Wonderful. Have a great evening.”

Mickey was up to his ears in bubbles when Ian woke up. He padded into the bathroom, stretching his arms above his head so Mickey got a full view of his toned abs and delicious happy trail. 

“You look happy.” He grinned dopily at Mickey. 

“You cannot be unhappy when you’re this relaxed.” Mickey replied. “You coming in? There’s room for a football team in here.”

“Hmm. How did you guess? That’s my secret fantasy.” Ian stripped out of his boxers and climbed into the tub, crawling across and draping himself on top of the bubble-covered man. 

“Ian?”

“Yeah Mick?”

“We are never leaving this place.”

Ian giggled and turned his head to kiss Mickey, his tongue pushing past his lips and pressing against Mickey’s. It was slow but hot and heavy at the same time. As the kiss got hotter, Ian moved his body in the water so he rubbed against Mickey. The older man responded and moved back on Ian. The friction and the kissing and the roaming hands was almost too much but not quite enough.

“Oh God you’re so fucking hot.” Ian groaned, burying his face in Mickey’s neck and licking at his pulse point. 

“I need to come.” Mickey pleaded. 

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Mickey’s whole body blushed. He wasn’t used to this. The freedom to speak out about his needs and wants and desires was so alien to him. Ian had carefully built this little world he now lived in where he could safely ask for anything he wanted but it still stuck in his throat. 

“Mickey...tell me how to make you come...” Ian urged. 

Mickey whined and grasped at Ian’s ass, using his hands to guide Ian’s throbbing dick over his own so he got the most friction where he needed it. “Just need you.”

Ian heard those words and they shot straight to his dick. Before he could slow things down he found himself spilling all over Mickey’s stomach under the water. He stilled and clung to Mickey. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry. That wasn’t meant to happen.”

“Hair-trigger much?” Mickey taunted with a laugh and a prod in Ian’s ribs. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I got a better idea anyway.”

Ian raised his head. “Oh?”

“I want you to fuck me.” Mickey murmured, his voice quiet but his tone was strong. 

Ian shuffled back and rested on his knees. “What? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought we were gonna wait until after the surgery.” Ian helped Mickey sit up in the water. 

Mickey grinned. “I changed my mind.”

“How come?” 

“I decided I didn’t want Carl to be the first Gallagher inside me.” Mickey delivered his punchline with a smirk. 

“Jesus Christ Mickey!” Ian burst into laughter. “You’re crazy!”

Mickey leaned up and kissed Ian on the mouth. “That sounded better than the truth.”

“Which is?”

“That I want your dick at least once in case I die.”

“YOU PROMISED! You swore to me! No talk about death!” Ian shrieked and pounced on his boyfriend, tickling him indiscriminately and making the water splash all over the floor. 

“I was joking!” Mickey squealed. 

Ian finally stopped when Mickey was a gibbering wreck in his arms. They held each other tightly in the cooling water while they got their breath back. 

“I love you, Mick.” 

The words tumbled from Ian’s mouth unexpectedly but once they were out there he had no inclination to take them back. He risked a glance at Mickey, who was wide-eyed and staring at him. Ian smiled reassuringly and stroked the wet strands of hair off his face. 

“Love you too.” 

It was so quiet Ian almost missed it. Mickey held his gaze bravely and Ian smiled so brightly the room lit up. He stood up and climbed out of the tub, holding out a hand for Mickey. 

“Come on. Fuck knows what we’re gonna use for lube but we’ll figure something out.” 

“Are you sure about this?” Ian demanded once he had Mickey flat on his back on the bed. 

“Ask me that one more time and I will tell you every thought I’ve ever had about my own death.”

“Fine. Jesus, I was only checking. I’ve never used spit and positive vibes as lube before. Want to make sure I’m not hurting you.” Ian huffed. 

“You should’ve just used the conditioner like I suggested.”

“No way. That shit will sting like crazy and probably give you another infection. It fucks with the pH of your body.”

“This what happens when you’re fucking a doctor? You get the full medical reasoning for not getting fucked?” Mickey groused. 

“Not a doctor, but yes. Dating me means you get to know all the things that are bad for you.”

Mickey retaliated by pushing his hips down so Ian’s fingers slid deeper inside of him. Sure, there was a slight sting and a burn that some might find painful but Mickey actually got off on a little pain. In some strange way that a therapist would have a field day with, the pain made him feel alive. He must’ve winced once too many times for Ian’s liking though because a second later the redhead had extracted his fingers. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Mickey hissed in frustration. 

“It’s hurting you! And that’s just two fingers! My dick is gonna rip you apart!”

Mickey scoffed and sat up. “Oh you think so highly of yourself don’t you?”

Ian grabbed his rock hard dick and waved it. “Just stating facts, Mick.”

Mickey jumped up from the bed and yanked on his jeans. As he searched for his shirt in the pile on the floor, Ian stared in dismay. 

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“That dick is going in my ass tonight! Then I’m having steak. So you order room service while I find something to help you shove that fire hose up my ass before I die of actual old age!” Mickey yelled and slammed closed the door for effect. 

Once out in the hallway Mickey was hit with the fact that he had no fucking clue where he was going to find what they needed to get the deed done. He headed back to reception and hovered while Olivia was dealing with a couple at the desk. She caught his eye and smiled, holding up a finger to let him know she’d only be a minute. Sure enough, one lap of the lobby and she was free. 

“Hello again Mickey. Everything alright?”

Mickey scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Listen, is there a pharmacy or a drugstore nearby?”

Olivia looked concerned. “Uh no. The nearest shop is about fifteen miles away. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“You are totally not really British. Go on, you can tell me. I won’t breathe a word.” Mickey taunted. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Olivia smiled serenely. “So? Can I help?”

“I very much doubt it.” Mickey smiled tightly. 

“Come with me.” She beckoned him to a side door and led Mickey into a small office. There was a single desk with a computer set up and a screen that monitored the security cameras around the lobby. Olivia closed the door with a firm click. 

“Mickey, in my role here at the hotel I have seen and heard everything. I once received a call from the room of a well known local government official and when I got to his room I found him naked, tied to the bed and covered in peanut butter. The lady guest he’d checked in with had taken everything he owned. Including his clothes. You are the first person aside from my husband to hear that story. Discretion is my job, Mickey. Tending a reception desk is something I do to pass the time. So whatever you need, ask and I will do my best to make it happen.”

“Lube. I need lube.” Mickey blurted out in a rush and then nearly expired on the spot. 

Olivia’s expression didn’t change. Not even a twitch. Instead she took a key from her bunch and opened the bottom drawer of the desk. 

“Regular or flavored?” She rooted through the contents and pulled out three small bottles. “Strawberry or vanilla.”

“Uh. Regular. Please.” Mickey was beyond stunned. 

“No problem.” She handed it over and locked up the drawer again. “People forget the basics all the time. It helps to be prepared.”

“We didn’t forget.” Mickey mumbled, feeling a weight in his chest that he wanted to offload.

“Oh?”

Mickey shook his head. “We weren’t gonna do it for a while. Not until later. After we have the surgery.”

Olivia’s eyebrows raised high on her forehead and made Mickey smile. 

“I need a kidney transplant. Ian’s brother is donating one of his to me. Ian is donating to a lady in Minnesota. It’s all very weird.”

“That’s incredible.” Olivia breathed, her mask of professionalism slipping ever so slightly to reveal some emotion. 

“Yeah.” Mickey smiled and nodded. “And we were gonna wait. But being here with him is so perfect. He’s perfect. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to live for now.”

“I understand.”

A tear formed in the corner of Mickey’s eye and he swatted it away before it fell. 

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” He sniffed. “I’m so stupid.”

“You are not stupid. You’re going through a lot. Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest, especially to someone you’re never going to see again.” Olivia reasoned. 

“I guess so.”

“It’s a very brave thing you’re all doing. Don’t forget to let yourself appreciate that. Nobody would blame you for being scared.” She added softly. 

“I’m fuckin terrified.” He admitted with a rush of laughter. 

“That’s understandable. I think it’s amazing that you’re scared but still pushing on. A lot of people give up when they are scared. I admire you immensely.”

“That accent just doesn’t give up huh.” Mickey broke into a grin. 

“Not for a second.” She winked. 

“Thanks for this.” He waved the bottle before slipping it into his pocket. 

“You’re very welcome.”

Ian was on the balcony, buck naked and drinking mineral water from the mini-bar, when Mickey returned. 

“You showing off my goods to the neighbors?”

Ian looked over at Mickey’s grinning face. “I’m an exhibitionist.”

“Well how about you come inside and show me what I’ve missed.” Mickey held up the lube. 

Ian’s face lit up. “Where the fuck did you get that?”

“Let’s just say Olivia needs a pretty decent tip before we leave.” Mickey tossed the bottle to him and quickly stripped out of his clothes for the third and final time that day. In no time at all Mickey was on his back with his legs spread and Ian was doing his very best to tease Mickey to death. 

“Jesus fuck Gallagher. I’m ready!” Mickey growled and nudged Ian with his foot to draw him closer. He watched as Ian applied a liberal handful of lube to his cock and shuffled forward on the bed. 

“Hold on tight.” He grinned. 

“To what? Your ego?” Mickey rolled his eyes, which then almost immediately popped out on stalks when Ian pushed all the way into him with one firm and steady roll of his hips. 

“Oh _shit_.” He groaned loudly. 

“You good?” Ian paused to check. 

“So good. You can move.”

Ian made a cautious retreat and studied the expressions on Mickey’s face. It reassured him when he saw nothing but bliss and with that in mind he picked up the pace. Mickey was a mumbling mess as Ian continued to jab at his sweet spot like he was digging for treasure. The stimulation was too much after a few minutes and Mickey grabbed for his dick, ready to explode.

“No. Me.” Ian panted and slapped Mickey’s hand away, watching with pride when Mickey’s eyes rolled back in his head at the pressure Ian was squeezing around his dick. 

“Ian...please...can’t stop...I need...I’m gonna...”

His body froze, wound up tight as the sensation crashed over him until he began to jerk and shudder. He spilled his release all over his own torso and slumped back when he had no more left to give. The beauty of it sent Ian crashing over the edge a few seconds later and he came with a loud moan. 

“Oh man...that was intense.” Mickey murmured when Ian pulled out.

“So fucking good.” Ian agreed. “Don’t fall asleep. Your dinner will be here soon.”

“Shit. I forgot about that. What did you order?”

“Steak. So rare you can hear it moo.” Ian chuckled. 

“And that’s why I love you.” Mickey grinned and got up from the bed. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“Leave the door open so I can perv on you from here.”

Mickey made his way to the bathroom and wiggled his ass for Ian. Today had been a fucking good day. 

The next morning found them lazing by the heated indoor pool. Mickey wanted to go in but held back, the fear of picking up another infection in his dialysis port so close to the surgery being too strong to overlook. Ian wasn’t bothered about swimming and was happy to sit around and read while Mickey dozed. It was a slice of heaven that they both needed before shit got wild. When their afternoon tea booking came around they were dressed in their nicest clothes and ready to see what the British loved so much about it. 

“The fuck?” Mickey hissed at Ian when the server bowed and walked away. “Everything is tiny!”

Ian stared at the tiered platters and bit his lip to stifle a laugh. Mickey was absolutely correct. Everything was miniature. The sandwiches were cut into small squares. The cakes were bite size. The tea cups were so tiny Ian could barely fit his finger into the handle. 

“But isn’t it fancy?” He grinned. 

Mickey laughed. “It’s pretty fuckin nice, yeah.”

They jumped right in and started to eat, with Mickey unable to hide his child-like excitement for the finger foods. 

“Is that it? Just a slice of wet green stuff?” Mickey opened up his sandwich to check the filling. 

Ian looked at the menu. “Cucumber and cream cheese.”

“Man, British people are weird as fuck!” Mickey laughed and tossed the whole sandwich into his mouth. “Mmm not bad.”

After the sandwich they moved on to scones with clotted cream and English jam. Mickey watched as Ian constructed his scone to look like the picture in the menu and laughed when the cream spilled out of the sides and dropped onto his chin. 

“You make a sex joke right now and I will throw this off your head.” Ian warned with a smirk. 

Mickey zipped his lips and made up his own scone. Neither man was surprised when his own creation fell apart. After the scones came the cakes, washed down with another pot of tea. When everything was gone Mickey leaned back in his chair and rested his hand on his stomach. 

“I’m so full. The tiny food has defeated me.”

“I need a nap.” Ian yawned. “I’m in a food coma.”

Mickey snagged his boyfriend’s hand up from the table and laced their fingers together. “This trip has been amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. One day I’ll get to take you to London for real.” Ian promised. 

“I’ll look forward to it.” Mickey smiled dreamily. 

Ian threw their bags into the trunk and slammed it shut, looking around for Mickey. He’d taken one last walk around the lake before they headed home to start the next chapter of their lives. It was exciting and terrifying and Mickey didn’t know which he was supposed to feel more. Ian was giving him some space while he checked them out. Olivia was at the desk and took their key back with a beaming smile. 

“I trust everything was to your satisfaction, sir.”

“And then some. Thank you so much.” Ian replied warmly. 

“You’re very welcome.” She turned to her computer. “Let me just print off your bill and you can be on your way.”

The paper copy was placed in front of him and Ian did a double take when he saw the total cost for their trip. 

“Uh...Olivia? I think there’s been a mistake.” 

She smiled breezily and checked the paperwork. “No. No mistake. Just sign on the line and I’ll charge it to your credit card.”

“Olivia. The bill only comes to fifty dollars. We spent more than that on room service.” He frowned in confusion. 

The pretty receptionist leaned closer to Ian over the desk. “I have a discretionary budget to spend on guests. Usually I have to use it to pacify people who want to complain that they can’t use their balcony in the middle of January because of the snow. I mean, really? But you two gentlemen have been the highlight of my year so far. So please, sign on the line and accept my best wishes for yours and Mickey’s good health.”

Ian wasn’t ashamed to admit he almost cried. He signed on the line and handed the pen back to Olivia. 

“You don’t know what this means to me.” He whispered. 

“That’s okay. Just tell all of your friends how amazing the Rose Garden is and we’ll be square. Thank you for visiting Mr Gallagher. We hope to see you again sometime.” She beamed happily. “And in case you weren’t aware, we are a fully accredited wedding venue.” She added quietly with a cheeky wink. 

Ian spluttered a laugh and nodded. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

Mickey appeared at the front door, smiling peacefully. “You ready?”

“Ready.” Ian nodded. 

Mickey waved at Olivia. “Bye Olivia. Thanks for everything.”

“You’re very welcome.” She waved back. Mickey was almost out of the door when she called him back. 

“Hey Mickey?” Her accent dropped. “Little Rock, Arkansas.”

A triumphant grin flashed over Mickey’s face. “I KNEW IT!”


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main event arrives and everyone is all about the feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty heavy with the dialogue in this chapter, even more than usual for me!

Ian didn’t want Mickey to go with him to the hospital. The idea of him being exposed to all kinds of germs and bacteria made Ian feel ill. This all had to go to plan, because he didn’t have a Plan B. Their trip to the Rose Garden felt like a distant memory right now. A beautiful and happy but very distant memory. Now, Ian was an hour away from going under the knife to give away a part of his body to someone he’d met once, just 24 hours earlier at a meeting with their coordinator. Now he was in for his pre-op and Mickey was on the other side the glass watching him like a hawk. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” Ian yelled through the glass. 

Mickey shook his head, inky strands of hair flying. “Shut the fuck up.”

Ian’s expression hardened and he glared. “Go home, Mickey.”

Mickey looked pained and he pressed his palm against the glass. “Don’t make me leave.” He mouthed. 

Ian finally smiled. He shook his head in resignation. “Fine.”

Mickey was in the room like a shot. “It’s not like Carl is gonna give his kidney away to anyone if I do get sick. He’ll wait for me to get better.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “And what if you don’t get better? What if the infection you pick up while you’re here being a whiny bitch attacks your heart? What if you don’t make it onto the operating table?”

“Ian. Stop. I couldn’t stay at home. I need to see you.”

“Come here.” Ian sighed heavily and patted the bed beside him. 

Mickey kicked off his shoes, pulled off his jacket and crawled up onto the gurney. He slotted in beside Ian and rested his head on Ian’s chest. Ian’s heart was thumping steadily in his ear. It was comforting. 

“I wanted to be the one to help you.” Ian murmured in a moment of honesty. His hand cupped the back of Mickey’s head and his blunt nails scraped his scalp. 

“And I wanted it to be some unlucky punk who wouldn’t miss it because he was already dead.” Mickey sighed. “I know that sounds harsh, but I never wanted to risk anyone’s life for a living donation.”

“I know what you mean. But the risks are low. Just like removing an appendix. We’re all gonna be fine.” 

“I’m scared. Really, really fuckin scared.” Mickey admitted, closing his eyes tightly to hold onto his tears. 

“I know.” Ian kissed the top of his head. 

“I really can’t lose you, Ian. I can’t.” Mickey’s voice cracked and he buried his face in Ian’s neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise. And you can’t either. You promise me that no matter how tough this gets you’ll keep fighting and never give up. I need you as much as you need me.” Ian murmured. 

“I promise.” Mickey whispered back. “I love you.”

Ian’s heart soared. “Love you too.”

There was a brief knock on the door before it opened and a nurse walked in. She smiled at the couple on the bed, wound up tightly together with soft smiles and closed eyes. 

“Ian. We’re ready for you now.” She said softly. 

Mickey slowly sat up and rubbed his face with his hands. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Ian pulled Mickey backwards and into a kiss that made the nurse blush. She giggled musically and Mickey was dazed and confused when Ian let him go. He clambered off the bed and stood next to Ian. 

“The fuck have I told you about treating me like a rag doll?”

Ian grinned cheekily. “Never in public, only in the bedroom.”

“Fuck off.” Mickey grinned back at him. The orderly came in to wheel Ian into the operating theater and Mickey was overcome with the need to say something else, for fear of his last words to Ian being fuck off. “Give em hell, Gallagher.”

“You too Mick.” Ian knew exactly what he was getting at. With one last smile Ian was gone and with it the only feeling of normality Mickey had ever felt. 

Time stood still. Mickey paced the corridors of the hospital without stopping to rest. His bones ached with exhaustion but he still couldn’t rest. Sitting still meant time to think and that was a fate worse than death right then. Fiona was in the waiting room, flicking through a magazine and glancing at the clock every few minutes. The procedure was expected to take around three hours but every time Mickey looked at the time it seemed to have gone backwards not forwards. 

“Mickey. Sit. You’re making me feel seasick.”

His eyebrows shot up and he glared at Fiona. “I’m fuckin nervous.”

“So am I. That’s my little brother in there. Fulfilling some random act of kindness for someone we don’t fuckin know. You know how many times we've had random acts of kindness done for us as a family? Exactly. So yeah. Strange fuckin territory. Now sit down and wait like the rest of us.”

Mickey glanced around at the empty room and then back at Fiona, who shrugged her shoulders uncaring. 

“So I’m used to having more Gallagher back up. Still applies. Sit.”

Mickey slumped into a hard plastic chair. “Why is he doing this?”

Fiona sighed heavily and dropped the magazine on the table. “You’ve met Ian, right?”

“I know. He’s a bleeding heart. Blah blah. I’ve heard that. But it’s so... _Jesus_.” Mickey’s lungs ran out of air. 

“Ian was born to love and help and support and spread joy. That’s his purpose in life. Mine is to raise other people’s kids. Yours is to set a new world record for number of hours spent scowling. Ian...he just spreads love. And if I had the choice? I’d pick raising other people’s kids any day of the goddamn week.”

“Really?” Mickey frowned at her. “Your whole life is on hold. You can’t take a day off. Ian told me, you know, all the things you’ve done for them. Sounds hard as fuck to me.”

Fiona gave a tiny smile. “It’s not like I had a choice.”

“Yes you did. It just wasn’t one where you’d ever pick the other option. But it was still a choice. Just like my dad chose to turn us over to Family Services for a year so he could run drugs for a Mexican cartel. Just like he chose to hide out in Texas for six months instead of paying his cartel debts when the Mexicans came knocking down our door. They’re all choices, Fiona. You just make better ones.”

“Shit, Mickey. That’s fucked up.” She sighed and ran her hand down his arm. 

“I don’t want your pity.” Mickey snapped. 

“Good. Cuz you weren’t getting it. I’m just acknowledging that it was fucked up.” She retorted with a broad smile. 

Mickey exhaled the breath he was holding. “It wasn’t all bad. The only reason I ever figured out I was diabetic was cuz the foster family I stayed with recognized the signs and took me to a hospital. Probably be dead now otherwise.”

“We gotta find the treasure in the trash somewhere, right?”

“Amen.” Mickey chuckled and accepted Fiona’s shoulder nudge when it came. 

“You love Ian?” She asked quietly. 

Mickey blushed furiously. “What’s it to you?”

“Just wanna be sure when all this is over you’re still gonna feel the same about him. That what he’s doing today isn’t for naught.” Fiona murmured. 

“I will. I do.” He huffed loudly. “Besides, he’d be doing this anyway.”

“No he wouldn’t. He couldn’t give part of himself to you so he’s making up for it by doing this. It’s his own personal fuckin penance for not being good enough to fix you.” She replied, her voice low and serious. “And before you throw yourself to the floor in a fit of woe...nothing anyone could say or do would ever change his mind. You look up stubborn in the dictionary and what you’ll get is a family photo of Lip, Ian and Carl.”

Mickey gaped at the eldest Gallagher in surprise. She didn’t seem angry at him and yet he couldn’t think of any other emotion he would be feeling if their roles were reversed. 

“I love him.” Mickey stated firmly. “From the moment I set eyes on him, I knew he would be someone special to me. Didn’t think he’d ever fall for me though. Thought maybe I could blag a decent friendship outta him at most. But he did and I will hang onto him until my fingers snap off.”

Fiona blew her fringe out of her eyes and smirked. “Glad to hear it.”

They fell into a silence for a few moments until Mickey’s tension overflowed once more. 

“What the fuck is taking so long?”

Fiona slapped him upside the head. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Ay what the fuck?”

Their griping was ended by the door opening and the same nurse as earlier appearing. 

“Ian is out of surgery and in recovery. You can see him in around half an hour.”

Mickey leapt to his feet. “Is he okay?”

“Strong as an ox.” She winked. 

Before he knew what he was doing Mickey threw his arms around Fiona and hugged her tight. Her arms enveloped him and they broke into sobs of relief. The nurse left them alone. 

“He’s okay.” Mickey exhaled shallowly. 

Fiona wiped her eyes. “He’s okay.”

Ian looked doped up and more pale than usual when they were allowed to see him. 

“Hey.” He grinned. “How’s it going?”

Fiona pecked a kiss to Ian’s forehead. “Wondering the same about you actually.”

“I’m good. Can’t feel a thing.” Ian replied, his space cadet smile fixed in place. 

“Good. So, Carl and Debbie are at work. They’ll be along later. Lip is on his way. Liam will be by after school.”

Ian just nodded, unconcerned. “Sure.”

Fiona glanced back at Mickey hovering by the door. “I’ll go grab us some drinks.”

When they were alone Mickey edged closer to the bed. “You’re really feeling okay?”

Ian held out his hand and Mickey took it. “I’m fine.”

Mickey let out his breath quickly. “Thank fuck.”

“Wanna see it?” Ian wiggled his red brows. 

“You’re in hospital, man. I’ll check out your dick later.”

Ian giggled. “Not my dick, asshole. The incision. It’s so cool. They did it the...um...” Ian trailed off while he tried to think of the technical term. “With the lock...thing...” His expression clouded over and he twisted his hand left to right. 

“Man you are wasted right now.” Mickey grinned. “You mean keyhole.” 

“Yes!” Ian gasped. “So cool.”

The nurse popped her head into the room and smiled. “Everything alright?”

“Can I show Mick my key?” Ian drawled, looking sleepy. 

Mickey raised his dark brows. “The meds have got him fucked up. He wants to show me his scar.”

The nurse chuckled and came into the room. “Okay. Let me wash my hands.”

A moment later she peeled back the gauze and revealed two tiny incisions knitted together with a couple of stitches. Further up was another incision with more stitches. It was all very neat and clean. She covered them over and washed her hands again. 

“He’s doing great. Really great.” She assured Mickey. 

When they were alone again Ian tugged on Mickey’s hand so he was at the top of the bed. 

“You look like shit.”

Mickey scowled. “Fuck you.”

Ian laughed and tapped his own lips. “Gimme a kiss. I missed you.”

“It’s been four hours and you were asleep the whole time.” Mickey rolled his eyes but bent to peck Ian’s lips. 

“Four minutes is too long without you.” Ian sang, his smile cheesy. 

“Lord deliver me from this lame ass motherfucker.” Mickey looked to the sky. 

Fiona knocked on the door and came into the room, juggling two cans of soda and a bottle of water. “Who is a lame ass motherfucker?”

“Me.” Ian answered cheerfully. 

Mickey grabbed a can and the bottle from Fiona, smiling when he saw she’d picked up Sprite, his favorite soda. Well, technically his favorite soda was Dr Pepper but he wasn’t really supposed to drink dark sodas. Something in them fucked with his kidney function more than most. It was nice to see Fiona remembered. In fact, Fiona did more than remember. When Mickey first moved into the Gallagher home she had taken the time to write lists of good foods and bad foods, adapting their grocery shop accordingly. 

“Thanks Fi.” He set the bottle on Ian’s bedside table. 

“So how long before you can come home?” She asked Ian. 

“All being well, a couple of days. I’ll be off work for around six weeks.”

“Fuck. That’s so fast.”

Ian’s eyes drooped as the painkillers kicked in again. “Pretty straightforward procedure.”

Fiona stroked his hair back and kissed his head. “I’m gonna let you rest for a while. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks for being here, Fi.”

“Nowhere else I’d be. See you later.”

When they were alone again Ian patted the bed. Mickey shook his head firmly. 

“No. You need to rest.”

“I need you.”

Mickey stood firm. “I’m here. I’ll be here all night. Get some sleep.”

Ian didn’t argue. He just smiled and closed his eyes. “Talk to me until I fall asleep.”

And so Mickey sat down beside him and started recounting the story of how he had to ask at the reception desk of the fanciest hotel he’d ever been to for lube so he could fuck the hottest guy he’d ever met in his life. Ian crashed out asleep within a minute. 

The following 24 hours passed in a blur for Mickey. Ian’s bedside was constantly crowded by various Gallagher siblings, his work-wife Sue, his neighbors Kev and Vee and numerous doctors and nurses. Mickey felt out of place and uncomfortable. He held back, hiding behind the group by the door ready to make his escape. The noise of the chatter and cooing over Ian was loud in the room. So loud that a nurse nobody had ever seen before came in and kicked everyone out. 

“One person can stay. Everyone else, out!” She clapped her hands. “Who do you want to stay with you?”

Ian didn’t hesitate. “Mickey.”

All eyes fell on Mickey and he blushed. The nurse flicked her eyes in his direction. 

“You family?”

Before Ian could answer Fiona cut in. “He is.” 

Mickey’s blush grew deeper. 

“Alright.” The nurse nodded. “Everyone else say goodnight. I’ll grab a blanket for the cot.”

The silence was deafening. Once the cot was made up beside Ian the nurse left them. 

“Big day, huh.” Ian murmured, feeling much more alert and in control. 

“Big fuckin day.” Mickey agreed. 

“You’ve been quiet today.”

“Have I?”

“You have.”

“Hard to get a word in with the Ian Gallagher fan club around.”

Ian just smiled serenely, not taking to heart the bitterness in Mickey’s tone. “Come here.”

“No...”

“Yes. I want you next to me. I need to feel you.”

Mickey didn’t even pretend like he was going to argue. He stripped out of his shoes, jacket and sweater until he was more comfortable and carefully, _so fucking carefully_ , crawled into the narrow space Ian had made for him. 

“I’m gonna get kicked out for this.” The older man grumbled. 

“I’ll take my chances. I can’t be there for you and Carl tomorrow. Give me this, please.”

Mickey sighed and relaxed against Ian’s side, keeping far away from the surgery site and putting as little amount of weight on him as possible. Ian’s dry lips brushed Mickey’s forehead and he inhaled deeply. Mickey’s scent - mint body wash, the kind that makes your balls tingle, and something Ian had never managed to work out but just knew instinctively meant Mickey - relaxed him immediately. He loved his family deeply. Every single one of them. But as a collective unit they could be a bit much. 

“You still have some questions left.” Ian murmured. 

Mickey huffed out his breath. “This has got to be the longest fuckin game of 20 Questions anyone ever played.”

“Maybe. But I like it.”

“Okay.” Mickey conceded. “Have you ever been in love before?”

“Nope.” Ian replied instantly. “There was a few times I maybe thought what I felt was love but actually, nope. Not even close. You made me see that I’ve never truly been in love before.”

“How can you be sure?” 

Ian stroked his hand over the back of Mickey’s neck, threading his fingers in the dark strands. “Because I have never been sure I would be willing to die for anyone before.”

Mickey tensed and Ian continued to rub at his neck. He kissed Mickey’s forehead again. 

“Just cuz I’m willing doesn’t mean I’m gonna.”

Mickey exhaled a chuckle and buried his face in Ian’s throat. “Please don’t.”

“We’re all making it out of this alive, Mick. I promise.”

“Promise all you like, but it’s out of your control.”

“We’re gonna be fine.” Ian said again. “What about you?”

“What?”

“Ever been in love?”

Mickey snorted loudly in the quiet room. “I’ve never even been in like with someone before.”

Ian giggled happily. “That’s funny.”

“I’m serious.” Mickey laughed. “I’ve never liked anyone enough to have a conversation with them. I’ve fucked around a little, sure, but mostly I never even exchanged names let alone pleasantries.”

“That’s kinda sad.” Ian mused. 

“Maybe.” Mickey agreed. “But then I wasn’t exactly dreaming of a long and happy life.”

“God. That kills me. You deserve the world and you were writing yourself off so early.” 

“Yeah well, I didn’t have you in my corner then did I?”

“Nope. But I’m here now and I’m gonna be in your corner until the end. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.”

“It’s better this way. Carl being the one to donate to you instead of me.” 

“How do you figure?” Mickey asked, unable to see how putting your brother into the mix was better. 

“Because now you don’t have to stay with me if you’re unhappy. I was worried, before, when I thought I’d be the one. Worried that you’d feel obligated to stay with because I’d saved your life or some shit. This way is better. You’re more free.” Ian explained gently. 

“That is fucked up even by your standards.” Mickey scoffed. 

“It’s true. I’d hate for you to be with me for any other reason than love.” Ian added. 

“Ian, what you and I have makes me free. Not the gift of life or whateverthefuck.”

Ian fell silent and just breathed Mickey in. The hospital corridors were quiet and it was late but he didn’t feel ready to sleep just yet. He wanted to hold Mickey all night. 

“Tell me what you wanna do when all this is over.” He whispered. 

Mickey licked his lips. “I haven’t got any plans. Never let myself get excited about the future.”

“But now you have a future. What does it look like?”

“You.” Mickey admitted. “My future is you. Wherever you are, I’ll be with you.”

“Damn right you will.” Ian chuckled. “But what do _you_ wanna do?”

“I don’t know what I’m good at.”

“Well what do you like doing?”

“I used to like doing the books for my Dad. I did the numbers, organized distribution that sort of thing. I liked that. There’s no fucking around with emotions when you do the numbers.” Mickey spoke shyly. 

“That’s a good start. Malcolm X does night classes. You could get some qualifications.” Ian suggested. 

“Maybe.” Mickey mumbled sleepily. “You should rest.”

“I am resting.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Jesus Christ, Ian. You’re like a toddler.”

“I resent that.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“One day, when we have kids, you’ll be begging them to be as well behaved as me.”

Mickey choked on fresh air. “I’m gonna blame the painkillers for whatever is coming outta your mouth right now.”

Ian grinned widely and closed his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

“Goodnight Ian.”

Ian kissed Mickey’s face, landing somewhere close to an eyebrow. “Love you.”

“Love you too, dumbass.”

“So mean. I hope our kids get your looks and my kindness.”

“IAN! GO TO SLEEP!”

“Ahem!” A loud cough jerked Mickey back to reality. He lifted his head from Ian’s shoulder and wiped at the corner of his mouth where he absolutely had not under any circumstances drooled in his sleep. 

Ian’s emerald eyes were twinkling at him and his beautiful smile lit the room. “We’ve been caught.”

The nurse at the foot of the bed coughed again and Mickey looked over, completely discombobulated after being wrenched from sleep. “I hope for both your sakes you were only snuggling. If I gotta fix sutures cuz you two couldn’t wait a couple days to fool around I’m gonna be pissed.”

Mickey shook his head. “We were talking and fell asleep.”

“Uh huh. Good. Now get up so I can check Casanova’s vitals.” She retorted, hands on hips. 

Mickey scrambled off the gurney and sat on his untouched cot while Ian’s blood pressure, oxygen levels and blood sugars were taken. 

“All looking good, Mr Gallagher.”

“Thanks Nina.” Ian smiled and Mickey scoffed. Of course Ian knew her name. 

“Take it easy. Plenty of rest.”

Ian saluted like a Boy Scout. “I will.”

Mickey lay back on the cot and stared at the ceiling. It was 8am and he was due to be admitted at 10. He closed his eyes and fought back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“Mick?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Ian’s nurse sneakily upped his pain meds to make him drowsy while Mickey was being prepped for surgery. He couldn’t even entertain the idea of waiting through it like Mickey had done for him. After saying their goodbyes again they were separated. And for every single minute it ruined Ian. Fiona woke him up with a gentle shove and he squinted at her face, looking for any sign that something was wrong. 

“Carl is out of surgery. He’s doing good.” She smiled warmly. 

Relief sank like a stone through Ian’s body. “Thank fuck. I was dreaming about him.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember that time when we were kids and he tried to lower himself out of the bedroom window on a sheet tied around the bunk bed?”

“No.” Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “I was not aware of that actually.”

Ian giggled merrily. “Shit. Forgot you were already our mom by then.”

“I’ve always been your mom, Ian.”

“I know.” Ian sighed. “Anyway, I dreamed he was doing it again but this time the bed post snapped and he fell out of the window and knocked out all of his teeth.”

“Cheery stuff.” Fiona drawled. “How are you feeling?”

“Awesome. Just wanna be home. Mickey should be done in an hour or so right?”

Fiona nodded. “Yep. Oh, and the lady from your surgery is doing great. She would like to see you before you leave.”

Ian’s smile shone brightly. “Amazing.”

“Leave it to you to save the fuckin world one organ at a time.” Fiona chuckled and pressed her lips against his forehead firmly. “I fuckin love you.”

“Love you too Fi. Will you let me know when you hear about Mick?”

“Of course I will. You know I will.”

Ian closed his eyes again. “He’s a grumpy asshole but I love him.”

“I know.”

Ian woke up next when Carl was being wheeled into his room. His dopey smile made Ian chuckle. 

“Hey.”

“Ian. This is the best high I’ve ever had.” Carl tried to whisper but it came out much louder than normal. The orderly snorted a laugh and hit the brakes so Carl was set. 

“Pretty good shit right?” Ian agreed with a smile. “How’re you feeling? Any pain?”

“Walking on clouds, man. Piece of cake.”

Ian relaxed back into his pillows. “I’m so relieved to hear that!”

“We’ve got this nailed.”

Before Ian could reply, Carl was asleep with his mouth hanging open. 

Fiona was next in the room and fawned over Carl while he slept through her hugs and kisses. 

“Mickey is doing good. He’s in ICU as planned and will be moving out tomorrow if he stays stable overnight.” She told Ian. 

The news that Mickey was okay while Carl was more than okay right in front of him had a strange effect on Ian. He burst into loud sobs of relief that he couldn’t control. Fiona held him through it and rubbed his back tenderly. 

“Let it out. Come on. You’ve been big and tough and strong for long enough.” She soothed. 

Ian cried and cried until he ran dry of tears. Fiona got him some water and he sipped it cautiously. 

“Okay?” She checked. 

“Sorry.” Ian wiped at his eyes. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey. Enough of that. You’ve been through a lot.”

He smiled weakly. “I just want to see him.”

“I know. Tomorrow, okay? Go to sleep.” She kissed his head. 

The orderly accepted the candy as a bribe but he was always going to help Ian out. In the still of the night he helped Ian into a wheelchair and rolled him through the halls to the ICU. With a wink and a wave at the nurses station Ian was wheeled into the last cubicle on the ward. 

“Ten minutes.” The orderly whispered and slipped out to share his sweet treasure with the ICU doctor at the nurses station. 

Ian gazed at Mickey in awe. His pale skin shone in the light from the streetlight outside the window. His black hair was matted to his forehead. Crusts of saliva had formed in the corners of his mouth. He’d never been more attractive to Ian in all the time he’d known him. Machines beeped around them and Ian smiled when he saw the figures displayed above Mickey’s head. He was fighting strong. Ian ran his fingertips over Mickey’s bare forearm and was surprised when Mickey’s eyes cracked open slightly. 

“Gallagher?”

“I’m right here Mick.” Ian whispered. 

“Jesus. What’s a guy gotta do to get some peace around here?”

Ian chuckled quietly at Mickey’s smirking face. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t wanna piss off your only visitor.”

Mickey closed his eyes and licked his lips. “I made it then.”

“Of course you did.” Ian replied. “Never in doubt.”

Mickey coughed slightly and winced. “Guess I need to think about how I’m gonna pay all my medical bills now I don’t seem to be dying anytime soon.”

“It’s early days. Once we get our own place and you leave your dirty socks all over the floor I might end up finishing you off.” Ian warned and Mickey’s face twisted into a smile. 

“Our own place huh. Still on that?”

“Oh definitely. It’s happening.” Ian stroked Mickey’s arm lovingly. “I can’t wait.”

“You really wanna hitch your wagon to me? Even with functioning kidneys I’m a raw deal.” Mickey chuckled, his voice thick and scratchy. “I mean, aside from the debt I’m bringing with me I’m gonna be on anti-rejection meds for life. Not exactly a cheap date.”

Ian leaned closer and pressed his lips to Mickey’s hand, nuzzling it. “Well then you’re just gonna have to marry me and get on my insurance.”

Mickey chuckled almost silently. “Sure thing Gallagher.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Ian grinned, gazing at Mickey and feeling the urge to cry once again. 

The orderly appeared in the doorway. “Gotta get you back.” He smiled apologetically. 

“That’s okay, Del. I appreciate you doing this for me.” Ian said and turned back to Mickey. “Get your rest, do what the doctors tell you and I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“Get outta here.” Mickey grinned. “Love you too.”

Ian was quietly wheeled back to his room and settled into bed by Del. He settled back to sleep and was about to drift off when Carl whispered. 

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah.” Ian murmured back. “He’s great.”

“Good. That’s good.” 

“Don’t know how I’m ever gonna be able to thank you for this.”

Carl yawned loudly. “Pick me over Lip as your Best Man. The look on his face will entertain me for the rest of my life.”

Ian laughed joyously. “Done deal.”

“Night big brother.”

“Night little brother.”


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets of recovery, motivation and manipulation.

It had taken five weeks. Five long weeks. _Finally_ , Carl beamed in realization. 

“Hey guys.” He lifted his head from where he lay on the couch. Ian and Lip looked over from where they were preparing breakfast and deciding on what to make for dinner. “It’s finally happened.”

“Sup?” Ian asked. 

“I don’t smell like shrimp anymore.” 

Lip and Ian shared a look of dismay. Carl chuckled to himself and got back to watching tv. 

“He’s off the morphine now, right?” Lip muttered to Ian under his breath. 

“Weeks ago.” Ian nodded. “Think he’s just being Carl.”

“He’s got me real fuckin worried all his common sense was kept in his left fuckin kidney.” Lip grinned. 

A noise above their heads alerted them that Mickey was up and having a shower. Ian couldn’t keep the grin from his face. He poured an extra coffee and started to prepare another bagel. 

“How’s he doing?” Lip nodded to the stairs. 

“He’s going great. All the signs are good. He’s just got to take it easy and build up his strength slowly.” Ian smiled warmly. 

“That’s good. Real good.” Lip squeezed his brother’s shoulder. 

“Hey, when are you headed back to Cambridge?”

Lip shrugged. “No immediate plans. I have to draw up some lecture material and write some midterms but I can do that from here.”

Ian felt a twinge of something like guilt. He knew Lip was hanging around because of Ian and Carl. They were off work and not contributing to the squirrel fund. Mickey’s disability checks were coming in since he gave up his apartment but that wasn’t much to go with. Lip had picked up some extra work at the local community college where he went into high schools doing career pathways and pastoral care stuff to try to tempt young people into engineering. It didn’t pay brilliantly, most local authorities expected teaching to be done for the love of the job, but it meant Lip could throw a few bucks into the family fund every week. 

“I’m back to work next week. You don’t have to stick around if you got shit to do.” Ian assured him. 

“I’m alright staying here for now. I wanna make sure you’re back to normal.” Lip smiled. “And Carl too. Although his normal is a little more free and loose.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. “I’m feeling good. Ready to get back to normality.”

Footsteps on the stairs got louder and Ian’s face lit up when Mickey appeared. His hair was still wet from the shower and he was dressed in sweatpants and an old basketball jersey. His mouth curved into a smile when he saw Ian. 

“Hey.” He greeted. 

Carl heard Mickey’s voice and leaned up on his elbows. “Hey Mickey! I don’t smell of shrimp anymore!”

“Good for you, dude!” Mickey stuck a thumb up in the air and turned his back, looking at Ian and Lip with a frown. “He’s off the morphine now, right?”

Ian and Lip couldn’t contain their laughter and had to hold each other up. Mickey sipped some of Ian’s coffee and sat at the counter. 

“What are you guys up to today?” Lip asked them. 

Ian pushed the plate with Mickey’s bagel over to him and swiped back his coffee, replacing it with the cup he’d poured for Mickey. “Slow run. Two miles. Ten minutes miles.”

“That’s a fuckin power walk for your lanky ass.” Mickey scoffed. 

“Well that’s what it says in my exercise plan from the clinic so I’m sticking to it. I can’t yell at you for pushing yourself too hard if I fuck myself over going too fast, can I?” Ian retorted and Lip hid a smirk behind his coffee cup. 

Mickey moved his fingers in the chatterbox sign and bit into his bagel. “My exercise plan seems to think I can’t get outta bed until Christmas so fuck that shit. I’m gonna head over to Malcolm X and see about some night classes.”

Ian’s eyebrows raised and he smiled. “Really?”

Mickey nodded. “I’m gonna need a job sooner rather than later. You wanna get our own place so badly then I’m gonna need to have money to chip in.”

“You still get your disability...”

Mickey shook his head to cut him off. “And we saw the type of place that affords.”

Ian rolled his eyes skywards. “I earn decent money. We can afford someplace nice without you busting a kidney to protect your male pride.”

“Funny.” Mickey screwed up his face in a fake smile. “Real fuckin hilarious.”

“I’m headed over to Malcolm X in about an hour.” Lip cut in to halt their bickering. “Wanna tag along?”

Mickey nodded and drained his coffee, rising to his feet. “Sure. Thanks. Come on Gallagher.”

“Where are we going?” Ian asked, following Mickey to the stairs. 

“We got an hour. Where you think we’re going?”

Ian giggled and chased Mickey to their bedroom while Lip shook his head at the 0-60 way the couple lived. 

Lip lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke out of the car window away from Mickey. “So what you thinking about signing up for?”

Mickey shrugged and sighed. “I dunno. I thought something with numbers maybe, but then I looked online and it turns out you don’t learn arithmetic the school way when you’re running your drug dealer father’s books.”

“Shocker.” Lip commented. “But you still know numbers, right? You see patterns and problems and where things fit and where they don’t.”

Mickey shrugged again. “I guess. But this all seems like a waste of time. I didn’t get further than freshman in high school. What fuckin hope have I got?”

Lip cast a glance sideways and felt a flicker of sadness in his heart for the young man in the passenger seat. “Okay. So why not start there? Get your GED. Finish high school.”

Mickey frowned. “The fuck for?”

“Well first off most courses here have a GED as a basic entry requirement. But more important than that, it’s a rite of passage. It’s a milestone you should pass in life.”

“Says the fuckin MIT graduate.” Mickey snarked. 

Lip chuckled heartily. “Yep. Says the fuckin MIT graduate who very nearly dropped out of high school to raise a baby that wasn’t mine. I wasn’t always the fountain of all knowledge, Mickey.”

He flicked the last of his smouldering cigarette out of the window as he pulled into the parking lot. He found a space and parked up. 

“Come on. Don’t let anything put you off. You’ve done shit that scares you before so you can do it again.”

Mickey took a breath and followed Lip, who had already began to march across the courtyard. 

“Alright, John Keating, consider me inspired. Now wait the fuck up.” Mickey yelled after him. Lip slowed his pace ever so slightly so Mickey caught up and smirked to himself. He hooked an arm around Mickey’s shoulder and patted his arm. “You’re always braver, stronger and smarter than you know.”

“Oh fuck off, Lip.” Mickey shrugged him off but couldn’t help the tiny smile from creeping across his face. 

Carl popped another pill and settled back to watch another episode of Doctor Who. Ian watched him from the archway to the kitchen and frowned. 

“Where did you get those?”

“What?” Carl smiled. 

“The oxy you just popped. You know that’s a classic Frank Gallagher move right?”

Carl grinned. “I got them off Frank. He scammed a new first year physician to write a script and he gave me some.”

Ian narrowed his eyes at his brother. “That’s fuckin dumb. You don’t need them. It’s nothing more than a paper cut by now.”

Carl shrugged, his eyes glazing over. “I know. Fun though.”

Ian pointed just finger sternly at Carl. “You’ve had your fun. If you’re not stinking of shrimp by the end of next week I’m gonna kick your ass. No jokes.”

Carl chuckled. “Sure thing.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.” Carl argued. “I already told Lori I’d be back next weekend. Now stop being Captain Buzzkill and let me enjoy my last week of freedom before I go back to being King of the Fryer.”

Lip watched Mickey from the corner of his eye as he looked around the college. He was wound up tight, visibly anxious and unable to focus. 

“So,” Lip started casually. “GED?”

Mickey nodded once. “I guess.”

“You don’t have to do this. Ian has already said he’s happy to support you both while you sort stuff out.”

Mickey’s cheeks flushed with anger. “He’s not fuckin supporting us both. No way. And it’s nothing to do with my male pride, no matter what that ginger asshole thinks. I ain’t being a burden to him. He deserves more and he’s gonna get more.”

Lip grinned, hands held up in surrender. “I get it.”

“I just...this whole thing is so fuckin weird. How do I know I’m not gonna just fuck this up like I fucked up high school.” Mickey chewed on his lip and scuffed the tile with his shoe. 

“Lots of reasons. You’re older now. Got more stability in your life. You want to be better. And Ian isn’t gonna let you struggle and fail. I’m not gonna let you fail. You need help, you just gotta ask.” Lip shrugged, his fingers itching for another smoke already. “Come on, I’ll show you the engineering department. See if you can figure out what I do.”

Mickey followed him through the quiet halls until they reached a locked door. Lip swiped his card and it opened up into a large room split into two areas. One side of the room had about 30 desks all facing a huge whiteboard. The other side was set out for practical work with benches, computers and drawing stations. 

“Well?” Lip grinned. 

Mickey glanced around and shrugged. “I guess if this is what they can have at a community college your office at MIT must be like Tony Stark’s playroom.”

Lip laughed wholly and loudly. “Yeah. Guess it is. What do you think? Ever thought of engineering as a career?”

“Philip, I don’t even know what engineering means.” Mickey drawled as he worked his way around the benches. 

“It’s everything. Everywhere. From mechanics to aerospace to rockets to the moon to building bridges and skyscrapers. It’s all around us. It’s math and science and architecture.” Lip explained, the awe in his voice obvious even after all the years of being in the field. 

“What do you teach?”

“Officially I specialize in mechanical engineering, a little bit of electrical stuff too. But mostly I teach you how not to kill your lab partner with a laser.” 

Mickey’s eyebrows wiggled. “You get to play with lasers?”

“The president probably won’t like it being called that, but sure.” 

“A real life Dr Evil.” Mickey teased. 

“So what do you think? Any of this look interesting to you?” Lip asked again. 

“I don’t know. Maybe ask me again when I get my GED.” Mickey replied shortly, but eager not to piss all over Lip’s attempts to play nice. 

“Okay.” Lip nodded. “Let’s go get you enrolled.”

“I’m not fucking you.” Ian was resolute. He swiped the towel across his damp chest and ignored Mickey’s pouting face. 

“But...”

“No buts. Literally.” Ian cut him off and Mickey flipped him off for his lameness alone. 

“I thought us being sliced and diced and back to normal would mean I get a tiny bit more dick than usual.”

“I fucked you this morning. And last night. We may be doing better but you’re not fighting fit just yet. I am not risking your health just because you can’t wait until morning.” Ian said firmly. 

Mickey huffed loudly and flopped onto his back. “Fine. At least have the decency to get dried off in the bathroom instead of parading yourself around in here when I’m not allowed to touch.” He snarled. 

Ian chuckled and tossed the towel at Mickey’s head while he slipped on some clean boxers. Mickey threw it back to Ian who discarded it on the floor and climbed into bed beside Mickey. 

“Lip okay with you today?” He pecked a kiss to Mickey’s shoulder as he settled down into the mattress. 

“Yeah. He was good. Helpful.”

“Good.” Ian smiled warmly. “Well done, Mick. You’ve completed the game. You’ve collected a full set of Gallaghers.”

Mickey clapped like an enthusiastic seal. “Oh goody! What’s my prize?”

“A lifetime of Gallagher fun?” Ian laughed. 

“Can I trade that for credit?” Mickey teased and squirmed to avoid Ian’s tickling fingers. 

“I chewed Carl out today for sneaking some of Frank’s oxy.” 

“Damn.” Mickey grunted. “He’s had oxy this whole time and he was holding out on me? Some friend huh.”

Ian prodded Mickey in the chest. “He knows I would kick his ass if I found out he’d given you anything like that.”

“My savior and protector.” Mickey swooned sarcastically. 

“Your partner.” Ian argued quietly. “Who wants you around for many, many years to come and so will happily kick the ass of anyone, sibling or not, who jeopardizes that.”

“My partner.” Mickey repeated, turning onto his side to face Ian. “Sounds kinda gay.”

“Walks like a duck, quacks like a duck. S’probly a duck.” Ian nodded with a smirk. 

“You calling me a duck?” Mickey laughed and bit down on Ian’s shoulder lightly. 

“Nah. I’m calling you gay.” 

“Prove it.” Mickey challenged. “Go on. Shove a dick up my ass. See what happens.”

Ian giggled happily and pulled his boyfriend into a firm but brief kiss. “Goodnight Mikhailo.”

The night before Ian was going back to work Mickey made an effort to have a date night. He cleared the house of as many Gallaghers as possible and cooked his specialty dish of spaghetti bolognese and garlic bread while Ian sat on his ass and watched. 

“What’s this all about?”

“You complaining?”

Ian grinned. “Definitely not. Just curious.”

“You’re back to work tomorrow so thought it would be nice to hang out just the two of us.” Mickey retorted defensively. 

“And I appreciate it.” Ian leaned over the counter to peck Mickey’s lips as he stirred the sauce. “Is this what I can hope to expect when we live together?”

“Nah. I was gonna ask Fiona to pop over every night and cook for us.” Mickey smirked and stuck out his tongue. Ian was about to respond when Mickey’s phone vibrated loudly on the countertop beside Ian. 

“Can you get that?” Mickey nodded to it while he draining the pasta. 

Ian grinned when he saw it was Mandy on FaceTime, quickly connecting the call. 

“Hey!” He greeted warmly. 

Ian and Mandy had managed to forge a good level of friendship over the phone, mostly roasting Mickey while he glared mutinously at them. 

“Hey. How’s it going?” She replied brightly. 

“Good, good. Mick is cooking dinner. Hang on, I’ll flip the screen.”

“Well check out Chef Mickey!” She crowed and giggled. Mickey flipped her off but smiled all the same. “Fuck Mick. You look good. You’re, like, human color these days.”

“I know, right?” Mickey laughed too. “I mean, it’s still Milkovich white but it’s not my usual.”

“Everything going okay with you guys?” She asked. 

“Yeah.” Mickey nodded. “We’re good.”

“Excellent. So. You guys ever been to Bloomington?”

Ian screwed up his face. “The fuck is Bloomington?”

“It’s almost exactly halfway been here and there. I’m going to be headed there for a meeting at work next week and wondered if you two douchebags might be able to make the drive down to meet me.” She explained, almost looking nervous. 

Ian grinned brightly. “Sounds good. When?”

“Meeting is Friday but I’m driving and staying over Thursday night.”

“I’ll check in at work to see what my shifts look like.”

“Awesome. Mick?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sounds good. You sure you wanna meet this guy? He tells lame jokes and he has shit taste in men.” Mickey smirked as he tilted his head to Ian. 

The redhead surged across the counter and tickled Mickey under the arm until he squirmed and laughed. 

“As someone who is the industry leader in the field of shitty boyfriends, I’m dying to meet my closest rival.” Mandy teased. 

“You damn Milkoviches are gonna be the end of me.” Ian groaned and chuckled. 

“You think I’m putting up with this Gallagher shit with no plans to fight back?” Mickey switched off the stove and reached for some bowls. “CARL! DINNER!”

A shuffling noise from the stairs got louder and Carl appeared, looking fresh, happy and alert. “Spaghetti? Awesome! Thanks Mickey.”

“You’re welcome. Now fuck off.” Mickey grinned and waved him away. “You know the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Carl smirked. “Fuck off so you can get your fuck on.”

“Exactly.” Mickey extended his hand to meet Carl’s fist-bump. 

“Remember to pull the bed away from the wall this time. Felt like I was in the room with you last night.” Carl called out as he climbed the stairs to his room. 

“Eew.” Mandy’s disembodied voice filled the air. “I guess I’ll let you guys do what you gotta do.”

“I’ll text tomorrow when I know my shifts.” Ian waved. 

“Cool. Take care.” Mandy waved back. 

“Bye sis.” Mickey called from the sink. 

Ian smiled when Mickey set down a bowl at the table for him. “This looks good, Mick.”

“Thanks.” He blushed. “Wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You always do.” Ian stroked the back of his hand. “Always.”

Mickey dodged a reply by stuffing his mouth with garlic bread. “Didn’t really think through the garlic and getting laid combination.”

Ian tipped his head back as he laugh. “Not much could put me off if I’m honest. Definitely not garlic breath.”

“Who said it wouldn't be me that would be put off?” Mickey sniffed and smirked behind his fork. 

Ian rested his chin on his palm and just smiled at his boyfriend. Some days he couldn’t believe his luck. 

Sue welcomed Ian back like a soldier returning from war. She refused to let him drive and asked him fifty times in the first hour if he was feeling well enough to be at work. 

“Sue! I’m fine!” He giggled happily. “Honestly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’m back to my best. I promise.”

Sue heaved a sigh and smiled tightly. “I’ve been so damn worried about you.”

Ian reached out and squeezed her hand as she drove. “I know.”

“Is Mickey doing okay?”

“He’s doing great. Way ahead of his recovery plan, he’s a normal color and he’s enrolled on a GED night class. I swear, he’s this crazy ball of energy these days. I love it!”

Sue chuckled darkly. “You’re getting laid more, you mean.”

Ian cracked up laughing. “More than I ever have in my life. It’s like he’s making up for the time he couldn’t!”

“I’m happy for you. Not just for getting your leg over. All of it. Seeing you like this, it makes me so happy.” Tears sprung to her eyes as she smiled again. 

“Thank you.” He squeezed her hand tightly. 

“Oh God keep doing that.” Mickey groaned lowly. 

Ian gripped Mickey’s hips and held him in place so he could properly show off his lack of gag reflex. His hair wasn’t quite long enough for Mickey to grab onto so he was making do with grasping at Ian’s ears as the redhead dipped his head until his nose was buried in Mickey’s pubes. He tensed his throat muscles a couple of times and Mickey had to fight the urge to buck his hips. 

“Holy fuck!” He cried out desperately. “Ian. Jesus.”

Ian pulled off to the tip and flicked his tongue while he looked up at Mickey. “You close?”

“I was close ten minutes ago. Now I can’t tell whether I’ve come ten times or if I’m still waiting.” Mickey exhaled shallowly as he tried to get his breath back. 

Ian grinned wickedly. “I’m still waiting for that load you promised me.”

“Then let me fuckin come, you sadist!” Mickey snarled and pushed on the back on Ian’s head. 

“I like teasing it out of you. You make the hottest noises.”

“OH FOR FUCK SAKE!” Carl’s voice yelled from the other side of the bathroom door. “FINISH HIM OFF SO I CAN TAKE A LEAK!”

Mickey’s eyebrows arched incredulously. “Seriously? I thought you said everyone was out!”

Ian blushed and shrugged. “It’s only Carl...”

Mickey bent and yanked his boxers back into place, pointedly ignoring the tent his erection made in the front. “We need our own place. Now!”

Ian grinned, unable to hide his joy. “Okay. We’ll look this weekend.”

Mickey opened the bathroom door and stormed past Carl, flipping him off without saying a word and slamming the bedroom door shut. Ian appeared in the doorway and discreetly passed Carl a ten dollar bill. 

“Thank you for your service.”

Carl pocketed it and shook his head. “I still don’t know why you’re paying me to cock block but if you keep the cash coming I’m not gonna argue.”

“Dumbass thinks we should save some more money up before we look for a place. I want to get started now.”

“Wow.” Carl grinned. “Frank would be so fuckin proud of your manipulation skills, bro.”

“Fuck off.” Ian scowled. “I’m nothing like him.”

“Oh no?” His brother challenged with a smirk. 

“Fuck off!” Ian repeated and was about to beat a retraction out of his brother when the bedroom door opened and Mickey’s voice bellowed out. 

“Gallagher, get in here. It won’t go down.”

Ian grinned and bounced out of the bathroom. “Duty calls.”

Carl shook his head in amused dismay and headed as far away from the couple as he could.

Mandy knew to expect a hunk when she met her brother's boyfriend but the real life version of Ian was a different level of hot. 

“How?” She gaped at Mickey after she’d finished hugging him to death. “How did you find someone this goddamn gorgeous and I’m still only managing to date pond scum?”

“You need to start trawling the free clinics. This one just showed up out of nowhere and refused to leave me alone.” Mickey pointed at Ian, who rolled his eyes and hugged Mandy. 

“Good to meet you finally. You’re even prettier in real life.”

“Oh shut up.” She retorted. “Only kidding, go on tell me more about how pretty I am.”

Ian chuckled and snagged Mickey’s hand in his as they walked towards the pizza place they’d decided on for dinner. “It must be the Milkovich genes.”

“Hmm. Guess they have to be good for something.” She replied. 

They ordered their meals and Mickey treated himself to his first Dr Pepper in about six years. 

“He’s gonna be high as a kite on that shit.” Mandy warned Ian, who just shrugged in reply. 

“He gets whatever he wants.”

“Oh yeah? And how long is this pandering gonna last?” 

“As long as he wants it to.” Ian laughed happily and sipped his coke. 

Their dough balls to share arrived and Mickey jumped straight in. His appetite and his taste buds seemed to be back with a vengeance and he was starting to worry about his figure. 

“There’s nothing on you!” Ian tutted when he caught Mickey deliberating over the last dough ball on the platter. “Eat. You need to put on some pounds before we start hitting the gym.”

Mickey rolled his eyes at the mention of the gym. Ian was keen to get back into his usual exercise regime and wanted Mickey to join him. Mandy started to laugh softly to herself across the table from them. 

“What?” Mickey snapped. 

“Nothing!” She laughed harder. “It’s just weird. Seeing you like this. Open and relaxed with another human. It’s nice.”

“Hey, I earned it.” Ian joked. “It was a tough nut to crack.”

Mickey prodded Ian in the ribs and the redhead squirmed closer to his boyfriend and until he was almost sitting on top of him. Ian pecked and kiss to Mickey’s lips and moved away again, smirking at the adorable blush that crept up Mickey’s cheeks at the public display of affection. He reached out and squeezed Mickey’s bicep lovingly. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make working out fun.”

“You’d better.” Mickey snarked and swiped the last dough ball. 

Mandy linked arms with Mickey as they strolled back to her hotel. She had a couple of emails to read ahead of her meeting the following day so she wasn’t going to be out for much longer. Ian suggested grabbing some ice cream and taking a walk around the town square, which both Milkoviches were happy to do. 

“So tell me what you do, Mandy.” Ian asked while trying to stop his ice cream dripping down onto his hand. 

“But then I’d have to kill you. And you’re too pretty to die.” 

“Didn’t Mickey tell you? We’re not allowed to joke about death.” 

Mandy regarded her brother shrewdly before answering Ian’s original question. “I work for a marketing firm. This meeting is to try and win a contract that will net us about half a million in the first year alone. We’re not the biggest firm in the pond but this could really switch us up a gear if we win it.”

Ian’s smile widened. “Cool! So what are you marketing here in Bloomington?”

“It’s some kind of medical apparatus. My partner works on the selling side of things and I do the numbers behind the scenes.”

“Oh God. Here we go.” Mickey sighed loudly and smiled affectionately at Ian. 

“What?”

“Doctor Gallagher here is about to grill you about your product.”

“I’m not a doctor!” Ian laughed. “I’m just curious! I might end up needing to use this apparatus!”

“You deal with a lot of elderly patients with bed sores?” Mandy smirked. 

“Uh...no...”

“Then you can consider your curiosity satisfied. We’re targeting care facilities.” She replied. 

Ian smiled and flicked his tongue out to save his ice cream from falling. Mickey couldn’t help the groan that escaped him when he watched the erotic display in front of him. Mandy shuddered and released Mickey, shoving him across to where Ian stood. 

“That’s all folks. I really don’t wanna see my brother pop a boner over you molesting that ice cream.”

“I didn’t!” Mickey protested. 

“I wasn’t!” Ian added simultaneously. 

Mandy giggled and planted kisses on each man’s cheek as she pointed to the building behind her. “My hotel. And I have serious work to do. It was awesome seeing you, Mick. You look good.”

“You too.” Mickey’s eyes stung with tears. He grabbed her up in a tight hug. “Fuckin love you.”

“Love you too, dumbass.” She held him close. 

“Want me to give you guys a minute?” Ian asked softly. 

Mandy let go of her brother and shook her head, wiping away her own tears. “Nah. We’re good. Get out of here.”

Mickey scrubbed his face with his hands and plastered on a smile. “Take care of yourself, okay? And come visit when we’re all set up in our place.”

“Wild horses couldn’t stop me.” She promised. “Bye guys.”

Ian held Mickey’s hand as they strolled back to the car. Sticky skin from the ice cream stuck to sticky skin. “You good?” Ian murmured. 

“I’m good.”

“So...I was thinking...” Ian changed the subject to allow Mickey his thinking time. He started up the car and pulled out onto the main road. “We should definitely be looking for a two bedroom place. That way we can have Mandy to stay over more often and she’d be way more comfortable...”

Mickey hummed in agreement, his mind processing and breaking down his day. The two people he loved most in the world had come together and the universe didn’t implode. He was a lucky motherfucker. 

Ian and Mickey stood in the middle of the room and gazed at each other. 

“This is the one, right?” Ian bit his lip, fighting to temper down the excitement building in his chest. 

Mickey cocked his head to the side. “Just promise me one thing...”

“Anything.”

“That even though we can _literally_ see the steps of your house from our bedroom window, this place won’t be crawling with Gallaghers every damn day.” Mickey smirked. 

Ian reached out and grabbed Mickey’s hips, dragging him closer so they were pressed up chest to chest. “The door remains locked at all times. I swear.”

“Good. Because I really miss Naked Thursdays since I gave up my apartment.” Mickey grinned. 

Ian threw his head back and laughed. “Long live Naked Thursdays. And Fridays. And Saturdays...”

Mickey cupped Ian’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Let’s do this.”

“You sure? It’s still crazy early days. This time last year we didn’t even know the other one existed. You don’t _have_ to do this.” Ian bit his lip again. 

“Can I do it anyway? Just because I want to?” Mickey asked quietly. 

Ian’s eyes filled with tears and he nodded wildly. “Yes please.”

“Okay. Then we’re doing it. Signing on the dotted line.” Mickey smiled reassuringly. 

“I love you so much, Mick.”

“Love you too, Gallagher.”

They shared another kiss, soft and gentle but still deep and meaningful. A gentle cough from the doorway forced them apart, albeit slowly and still staring into each other’s eyes. 

“So guys...” The agent smiled brightly at the couple, her blonde hair bouncing across her shoulders. “What do we think?”

Ian nodded to Mickey, who nodded back and turned to the agent with a huge smile on his face. “We’re doing it.”

“Oh wonderful!” She clapped happily. “Let me get the paperwork for you to sign.”

As she wandered off Mickey started to head off after her. Ian chased him down. 

“Hey Mick...when you said you didn’t want this place crawling with Gallaghers you meant my siblings right?”

“Yeah...” Mickey replied. “Why?”

“Nah. It’s all good. Just checking you didn’t mean our kids.” Ian answered breezily and started to whistle a tune like the subject was closed. 

Mickey shook his head and scoffed. “Get real, Gallagher.”

Ian’s tune stopped abruptly but Mickey wasn’t finished. 

“Our kids are totally gonna have the Milkovich name.” 

The redhead giggled with a mix of relief and amusement. “Whatever you say, baby.”


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey worries about his dependency on Ian and Ian realizes he’s forgotten an important detail.

“Hello Mikhailo.” The doctor greeted brightly. “Good to see you again.”

“Mickey. Just Mickey.” He reminded her (again) and sat down across from her. 

Julia Connor nodded and put her glasses on, scanning her eyes rapidly over the sheet of paper in her hand. “Well Mickey, it says here that your new kidney is settled into its new home and has no plans to leave. How are you feeling?”

The relief clogged in Mickey’s throat and he had to cough to clear it. Ian’s hand rested on his thigh as a gesture of support. 

“Good. Yeah. Really good.”

Dr Connor smiled softly. “It can be quite overwhelming. Now that it’s been six months since the transplant you should be able to carry out your usual activities. Have you experienced any discomfort at all when exerting yourself?”

Ian choked on his laugh when it bubbled up in his chest unexpectedly. Mickey gave a withering glance sideways and shook his head. 

“So childish.” He muttered before looking back at the doctor. “No. No discomfort. I mean, I’m unfit as all fuck but I’m working on it. Dumbass here is a gym rat so we’ve been working on getting my cardio going good.”

“Oh!” She beamed happily at both of them. “That’s wonderful.”

“Meh.” Mickey shrugged. “Hard work but I can feel the improvement.”

Ian squeezed Mickey’s thigh under the table. “So can I.”

“Cut it out, asshole.” Mickey hissed but Ian just chuckled along with the doctor. She seemed genuinely happy to see Mickey and Ian together. 

“I know I’m not your consultant, Ian, but how have you been doing lately?” 

The redhead couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “Best I’ve ever been.”

“Glad to hear it.” She replied. “So I’ll schedule another appointment for six weeks time and we’ll take more bloods. If they come back fine we can look to stretch it out to ten or maybe twelve weeks. Just keep being good to yourself.”

Mickey nodded and suddenly grasped for Ian’s hand, entwining their fingers firmly. “Um...before I go...”

When he stopped abruptly Dr Connor leaned back in her chair and gave him a moment. Ian was surprised by his outburst and scraped Mickey’s palm with his blunt fingernails. 

“What’s on your mind Mickey?” She asked softly. 

“We...uh...kids.” Mickey blurted and Ian did a double take in shock. “We want kids. Someday. Way down the line, probably. But we know definitely want that. Will the kidney thing make that a problem?”

Ian exhaled shallowly and leaned forward, desperate to know the answer to a question he didn’t know he wanted to ask. Dr Connor glanced between the pair and removed her glasses. Her smile seemed much more personal and sincere when her brown eyes were no longer hidden by her glasses. 

“And how were you thinking of having kids?”

Mickey ground his teeth. He liked his doctor. She was nice and friendly and there was nothing she didn’t know about kidneys. But he hated the way she asked a question like she was already partway through a conversation in her own head. 

“Well I thought I would come off birth control and Ian could get started on knocking me up.” He snapped and had to dodge Ian’s elbow when it was aimed at his ribs. 

“Mickey!” The redhead gasped in dismay, which was quickly waved away by the good doctor. 

“I didn’t word my question very well.” She smirked. “I just meant were you considering adoption, fostering, surrogacy...”

Mickey and Ian shared a look and, for all Ian had been completely blindsided by Mickey’s question, they both knew without discussion what they wanted. 

“Not fostering.” They said at the same time and then chuckled. 

“He gets attached to waifs and strays. He’s never been able to give them back.” Mickey teased with a head tilt in Ian’s direction. The redhead grinned broadly and nodded. 

“That’s totally true.”

Dr Connor tapped her glasses against her lip. “So that leaves adoption or surrogacy.”

Mickey sighed. “I want to have our kid. _His_ kid.”

“But?”

“There’s no way we’re gonna be able to afford a surrogate. I looked that shit up online. You know how much they cost? Shit, if I had a womb to rent out I would never work a proper day in my life!” He cracked a joke that didn’t reach his eyes. 

Dr Connor nodded sympathetically. “It’s a tough decision to make. I can refer you to a very good adoption coordinator. She’s a personal friend.”

“Thanks.” Ian looked hopeful. 

Mickey rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I just wanna know if our situation is gonna stop us having a kid. I mean...am I damaged goods?”

Dr Connor turned serious, her expression turning hard. “Absolutely not! Mickey, I don’t think you see it. Perhaps you’re too close to the reality. But you have achieved so much. I have the psychological evaluations to prove it.”

Mickey smiled shyly. “Yeah?”

She softened and smiled. “Yes. Both of you passed your evaluations before the transplant.”

“Yeah,” Ian smiled sadly. “But giving someone a kid is a bit different to giving someone a kidney.”

“You’d be surprised.” Dr Connor laughed lightly. “A lot of the questions on the psych exam are probably the same! Look, I don’t pretend to be an expert on these matters but I can certainly see no reason to stop you.”

Mickey nodded and bit his lip. “Thanks.”

“I will get that number for you. Madeline is a good friend. She will steer you in the right direction. I’ll let her know to expect your call.”

Ian grabbed Mickey’s arm when they left the clinic and halted his step onto the sidewalk. 

“What the fuck was that?”

Mickey narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“You’re worrying about having kids? Since when?”

“Since it’s all you talk about! You think I wanna be the guy who crushes your dreams, Gallagher? I gotta know if I’m gonna fuck this up for you.” Mickey spat and yanked his arm free. 

Ian stepped into his space and glared at Mickey. “Fuck it up for _me_? What...you don’t actually want this? You’re just going along with it for me?”

“I didn’t say that, did I?” The older man snapped. “I just meant I don’t wanna be the thing that stops you having a family someday.”

“That’s the same fucking thing, dumbass! You’re already my family!” Ian snarled in annoyance. 

If any of the many people passing by were listening they would be bemused by the loving content of their conversation juxtaposed with the angry, snarling tones the words were spoken in. 

“I want you to be happy, Ian!” Mickey’s voice rose with his temper. “And you won’t be if we can’t have kids!”

“You seem to know a lot about my happiness for someone who _lives_ for fucking me off!” Ian retorted. 

“Fuck sake! I’m just tryna cut to the chase here!”

“Cut to the fucking chase?” Ian repeated slowly. “Are you for real right now? You’re gonna, what, walk away from this if we can’t adopt? Leave me so I can find someone else to live the American dream with?”

Mickey started to laugh, which only pissed Ian off more. 

“What the fuck is funny?”

“You!” Mickey guffawed. “Us!”

Ian’s annoyance dissolved into confusion. “Huh?”

“Talking like either of us is walking away from this. We’re fucked for life, Ian. Fucked. There’s no walking away. I’m too fuckin selfish to let you go.” Mickey explained, softly smiling. 

“Fuck.” Ian exhaled. “I love you so damn much. You scare me when you talk like that. Sounds so final.”

Mickey leaned his forehead against Ian’s chest and felt his heart race. “I want the world for you, Gallagher. Because that’s what you’ve given me.”

Ian couldn’t speak. Didn’t trust himself to speak. He stroked the back of Mickey’s neck and inhaled deeply. 

Fiona made dinner for the whole family and Mickey was trying so hard to be grateful but in reality he just wanted to be at home with Ian eating Cheerios out of the box and watching some shitty tv show. He was restless and distant while the family chattered incessantly about whatever their latest dramas happened to be. Mickey was hyper-focused on Ian and hated that he was diagonally opposite him at the table. He wasn’t in direct eye line and he wasn’t there to place his large, warm hand on Mickey’s thigh under the table. He didn’t realize how much he needed those things. 

“Dude, what’s going on?” Carl nudged Mickey from the left and murmured quietly. 

“Huh?”

“You’re having dinner somewhere else, man.” Carl smiled softly. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just...nothing.”

“Mick?” Carl peered closer at his friend. 

“I just feel weird.”

“Like, sick weird?”

Mickey shook his head. “Like I need to be next to him all the time.”

Carl started to chuckle. “So? You’re in love.”

“No.” Mickey shook his head. “It’s...I can’t...I don’t...”

“You don’t love him?” Carl turned serious, keeping his volume in check so the Gallagher brood didn’t notice Mickey was spiralling. 

“Of course I fucking do.” Mickey snapped, breathing sharply. “It’s more than that. It’s not enough. The words. What I feel. The need.”

“You’re not making any sense. Take a breath.” 

Mickey cut Carl off by jumping to his feet and rushing out of the back door, gulping in air like he’d been underwater. He sat on the steps and continued to swallow air. A moment later the door opened and Mickey groaned. 

“Carl...I’m fine. Fuck off and eat your dinner.”

Ian’s long legs appeared around Mickey’s hips as he sat down on the step above. “I’d say you’re anything but fine.”

“It’s your fuckin family, man! All over each other. Chatter chatter chatter. I didn’t even wanna be there tonight. It’s claustrophobic!” Mickey blurted out. 

Ian placed his hand on Mickey’s back and rubbed in slow, rhythmic circles until he got his breath back. “Breathe.”

Mickey fell silent and concentrated on coming back down to earth. After a few minutes Ian spoke again. 

“Okay. Talk to me.”

“Fuck off.”

“I can sit here all night.”

Mickey puffed out his breath and leaned back into Ian’s embrace. “I freaked myself out.”

“Oh?”

“You weren’t beside me. I usually have you next to me and you weren’t there.”

“And that freaked you out?” Ian twirled his fingers in the baby soft hairs at the nape of Mickey’s neck. 

“No. Well, it wasn’t very nice. But that wasn’t what freaked me out.” His eyes started to flutter closed when he concentrated on the calming tender touch of Ian’s fingers. Ian didn’t say anything and just waited for Mickey to continue. 

“It just sorta hit me, you know? That I need you. I need you around me. Close to me. And fuck me that’s some deep shit.”

Ian exhaled slowly, a hint of a chuckle in his breath. “But it’s okay. I’m here.”

“I don’t want to need you like that! I don’t want to need anyone like that. All my life I’ve had to look after myself and never rely on anyone. Now I can’t even sit through a loud as fuck family dinner without having you beside me.” Mickey snarled, his internal anger rising inside him. 

Ian squeezed down gently on the tendons in Mickey’s neck. “Mick...baby...I think you’re just figuring out what family means.”

Mickey stayed silent and Ian shuffled forward until he could press his lips to Mickey’s neck where he’d been stroking. 

“Living in this house...you got a taste of it but now? Now you’re family. For better or worse. And I just don’t think you know how to process that.”

Mickey sighed heavily. “It’s fuckin weird.”

“I know.” Ian laughed softly. “But we love you. All of us. And when I can’t be beside you there’ll always be someone who can. Carl. Fiona. Debs. Even Lip would get here if you needed him.”

Mickey rubbed his face with his hands. “I know. I just lost my grip for a moment there.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’ve never felt this way before, Ian. It’s terrifying. What I feel for you. How _you_ make _me_ feel.” Mickey confessed, shuffling to turn and look up at Ian. 

“And how do I make you feel?” Ian asked nervously.

Mickey licked his lips and took a breath. “Weightless.”

Ian was rendered speechless. He couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t cheapen the moment Mickey had created. Instead, he cupped Mickey’s jaw in his large hands and pressed a kiss to his mouth, transferring all the words of love and longing in his kiss. 

Ian and Mickey had a weekend routine that they’d figured out pretty quickly when they moved in together. If they both had nowhere to be, Ian woke up first and made coffee and toast, taking it back to the bedroom where he woke Mickey with nipping kisses and wandering hands. By the time they had their first fool around of the day their coffee was cool enough to drink and they would chat about the stuff they hadn’t caught up on during the week while eating cold toast. After breakfast they would share a shower and have their second fool around of the day. Once dressed they would do the boring, domestic stuff that secretly gave each of them a thrill. Because, really, who in the world ever would’ve thought either of them would end up so loved up and happy that grocery shopping together felt as good emotionally as sex did physically? But it did. It really did. Even now, when Mickey was trying to sneak things into the cart that jarred completely with not only Ian’s efforts to be healthy but also his diabetes. 

“Stop it! You eat all that and you’ll die.” Ian snapped and removed the packet of sugar dipped donuts, strawberry Pop Tarts, a multipack it Snickers and some toffee popcorn. 

“Pick one.”

Mickey pouted like a child and grabbed the Snickers back, tossing them into the cart with a huff. “You’re my boyfriend, not my dietician.”

“And you’re my diabetic soulmate who seems to forget that I want you around for a long ass time to come.” Ian shot back and restocked the shelves with Mickey’s loot. 

An older lady nearby gave them a gooey smile. “He cares about you, honey. Don’t see much of that around here these days.”

Mickey curled his lip and was about to tell the wrinkly q-tip to mind her own fuckin business when Ian’s hand came to rest on his back, rubbing soothing circles. “I guess.” He deflated. 

Ian patted him gently and Mickey shoved him away, waiting until the lady was at the other end of the store before he snapped at Ian. 

“I ain’t a fuckin dog, Gallagher. You don’t need to pet me to calm me down and tell me I’m a good fuckin boy.”

“Were you about to growl at that lady and snack at her legs?” Ian raised his brows in amusement. 

“No.” Mickey tried to lie but lying to Ian was like catching snowflakes on your tongue. Impossible and you just looked dumb. “Well she needs to keep her nose outta people’s business.”

“Exactly. You’re a pitbull when you don’t get your own way.” Ian chuckled triumphantly and watched Mickey’s scowl deepen. He stepped into the older man’s space and backed him against the shelves. “My pitbull. My sexy as fuck pitbull.”

Mickey exhaled sharply when Ian dragged his lips over Mickey’s and pulled back before they could properly kiss. “Mean.”

“Come on. You get the toilet paper and I’ll get the bleach.” Ian grinned and dragged Mickey by the hand. 

“I love it when you talk dirty.” Mickey drawled and pushed the cart, sparing a sad look for the cookies as he passed. As much as he hated Ian needing to keep his diet in check, he was so fucking grateful that he even had Ian to keep it in check. 

Saturday evenings, if Ian was off work, was his favorite time to hit the gym with Mickey. It was the quietest time to go so they usually had the place to themselves and Ian got to see the emergence of Mickey’s strength. Mickey was a lot less reserved when it was just them in the gym, often feeling intimidated by the usual gym rats who paraded around the place looking like they swallowed a grand piano. But when it was quiet, Mickey got to push himself harder and have Ian watch over him while he worked on the twigs sticking out of his sleeves. 

“Spot me?” He nodded to the bench and Ian’s face lit up. Spotting for the hottest guy in Chicago...? 

“Yes fucking please.” Ian jumped to attention and adjusted himself in his shorts as Mickey lay back on the bench. There was every chance this was about to get him hard and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it. They’d been here before and Ian had to jerk off in the gym showers before they went home. 

“Easy tiger.” Mickey wiggled his brows when Ian stepped into position above Mickey. 

Ian helped Mickey take the weight of the bar and watched carefully as Mickey got into the rhythm of lifting. Ian’s eyes flicked over Mickey’s body, his mouth drying up as he followed a bead of sweat on its journey down Mickey’s bicep. His muscles tensed and twitched and it was doing things to Ian. 

“Ay, eyes on the prize Gallagher.”

“Oh they are.” Ian leered. 

“Do it properly or fuck off. You ain’t getting me killed cuz you’re a fuckin perv.”

Ian chuckled and circled around so he was in front of Mickey, his arms looped over his shoulders so he could catch the bar if he needed to. He shuffled slowly up so his thighs were boxing in Mickey’s hips. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good.”

Mickey was already red in the face but it didn’t stop him blushing. “Fuck off.”

“I’m serious. It’s only been a few weeks and you’re already this far ahead. You’re amazing.”

Mickey’s arms started to sway on his lift and Ian moved further up. His thighs were now around Mickey’s ribs. 

“Not helping.” Mickey grit his teeth and tried to look anywhere but the taut muscles and freckled skin of Ian’s legs. 

Ian reached out and gripped the bar, taking some of the weight. “What about now?”

Mickey turned his head around to look for other patrons. “Ian...”

“It’s empty. It’s just us. Don’t worry.” He guided the bar up and down, rolling his hips with the effort and effectively waving his dick in Mickey’s face. 

“Touch it.” Ian urged in a whisper. 

“Ian!” Mickey snapped, his arms shaking. 

Ian set the bar down but they both kept their hands on it. “I need you.”

Mickey’s hand reached out before his brain could shut it down. He placed it on Ian’s knee and ran his thumb across the flushed skin. Very slowly he inched his hand up, skimming his fingertips over the thigh muscle that made his mouth water. 

“Please Mick.” Ian’s voice was as shaky as Mickey’s hand. 

Mickey looked around again, his arousal battling with his nerves. 

“Still just us.”

“There’s cameras, Gallagher. We’re gonna end up banned for life.” Mickey snapped. 

“Meh. Don’t like this gym that much anyway.” Ian grinned. 

Mickey let out a burst a laughter and Ian knew he was giving himself over to the moment. His hand slipped higher up Ian’s shorts and stroked lazily. 

“God you’re killing me.” Ian groaned. 

Mickey curled his fingers so they slid inside Ian’s underwear and scraped his nails through the thatch of pubic hair that he knew was several shades of red. “Fuck Ian.”

Ian licked his dry lips and held onto the bar for dear life. If he touched Mickey now then it would all be over for him. “So good.”

Mickey’s questing fingers found and circled Ian’s dick and he couldn’t hold back a groan at the feel of heated flesh in his hand. Ian was pulsing and struggling to keep control, in serious danger of shooting off like a twelve year old having his first wank. Mickey had barely even touched him but seeing his man beneath him with blown pupils and a healthy flush to his cheeks was too much for Ian to take. Mickey tugged slowly but firmly, just a little too restricted by fabric to make it a proper jerk off. 

“Need to taste you.” Mickey whispered, smirking when Ian’s dick produced enough precome to slick him up. 

“Shower. Now.” Ian panted and stepped away from Mickey. 

The older man grinned and sat up. “I’m not finished my work out.”

“I know you're not.” Ian winked and dragged him toward the changing rooms by the hand. 

Once inside the empty locker room, Ian pushed Mickey roughly into the wall and pounced. Teeth clashed and tongues battled as they kissed and pulled each other’s tops off. They grappled until Mickey pushed Ian off and shoved him so he was pressed against the opposite wall. 

“It’s like you’re cut from marble, man.” Mickey’s hands ran down Ian’s body, through his damp chest hair to his abs and then to rest on his hips. In one fluid motion Mickey dropped to his knees and pressed kisses all over Ian’s stomach. He moved over to where the surgery scars were fading and traced them with his tongue. 

“Mick...” Ian’s hands moved into Mickey’s hair and tugged, the strands of black sweaty from their workout. “Touch me.”

Mickey wasn’t in the mood to play around and quickly obliged, pulling on the waistband of Ian’s shorts and underwear so they both dropped to his ankles. Ian stepped out of them and kicked off his training shoes so he was only in his socks. Mickey wasted no time and immediately took Ian’s cock in hand, working his fist up and down and twisting until he spread the copious amount of precome all over the nine inches he had grown very attached to in the last year. 

“Holy fuck.” Ian yelped when Mickey’s mouth closed around the head of his cock. “Fuck!”

From their first time to now, Mickey had never disappointed with his oral skills even though he was adamant he’d had very limited experience in that particular field. Maybe it was natural talent. Maybe it was the depth of Ian’s feelings for the man that made it feel more special. Whatever it was, Mickey was good and never shied away from the challenge that Ian’s size presented. 

“So fuckin big.” He exhaled when he pulled off to breathe. “Love it.”

Ian scraped his nails through Mickey’s hair. “Love you.”

Mickey smiled up at him and took him back in his mouth, all the way to his throat and sucked him like he meant it. Ian’s head fell back against the wall. He wasn’t going to last much longer. With the filthy porn star noises Mickey was making, the way he kept looking up at Ian through his dark lashes with saliva dripping down his chin and the gentle pressure of Mickey’s finger tugging on his balls as he sucked him off was just sensory overload to Ian. 

“Not...Gonna...Last.”

“Come for me. Lemme taste you.” Mickey mumbled around Ian’s flesh. 

Ian fought the urge to close his eyes. He wanted to see Mickey take everything he had to give. “So fuckin beautiful Mick. Love you so much.”

Mickey felt Ian’s dick swell in his mouth and pulled off a little so he didn’t choke when the inevitable happened. He kept his eyes locked on Ian’s and he saw the exact split second when his climax washed over him. His hips stopped moving in time with Mickey’s head dipping, his thighs tensed and his mouth fell open. Mickey could barely stand how much he loved seeing Ian like that. Because of him. The pleasure he could give. It was intense and made Mickey feel like the most powerful man on earth. He swallowed down everything Ian gave and then gently licked him clean as the redhead worked through his aftershocks. Without warning and with a flurry of limbs moving before his eyes, Mickey was scooped up and manhandled over to the bench in the middle of the floor. He was flat on his back with Ian’s tongue plundering his mouth before he had a chance to register what was happening. 

“Jesus.” He grunted when Ian’s hand snaked into his shorts and grasped at his leaking cock. Ian continued to ravage his mouth while jerking him off and Mickey had to grab onto the edges of the bench to keep him grounded in reality. 

“Gonna fuck you so good when we get home. So hard.” Ian panted against Mickey’s jaw. 

“Coming. Now Ian. Coming.” 

Ian grabbed at the waistband and yanked down Mickey’s shorts so his cock was exposed. It was red and throbbing, and all Ian had to do was take it back in hand before Mickey was jerking and shuddering through his orgasm. 

“Fuck!” Mickey whined as he painted his own stomach. 

Ian buried his face in Mickey’s neck, both fighting to get air back in their lungs. “So good.”

“Shower.” Mickey mumbled, barely coherent. 

“Yeah.”

“Before we get caught.”

“Yeah.”

Ian rose to his feet and pulled Mickey up into a seating position so he could remove his own sneakers and shorts. “I love you.” He pecked a kiss to the black mop of hair. 

“Ditto.” Mickey replied softly. 

Voices down the corridor pulled them from their moment and Ian grinned as he ran toward the row of showers behind the wall. Mickey glanced down at his naked body covered in his own release and quickly legged it after Ian, just as the door to the locker room opened and three guys walked in. 

“That was close.” Ian giggled as he soaped up his body. 

Mickey tried to be stern but he was too elated and boneless to care. “Too close. Horny fuck.”

With a firm slap on Mickey’s ass, Ian grinned and blew him a kiss. 

Saturdays were definitely his favorite day of the week. 

Mickey still got tired sometimes. A new kidney wasn’t a cure-all for his health issues. The mix of reduced kidney function and diabetes as well as his increased exercise regime (and, let’s be honest, the crazy hot sex life he had now) all combined to make it so he fell asleep in front of the tv after dinner most nights and would sleep late each morning if he didn’t have a sexy ginger alarm clock. But it wasn’t a concern to Mickey now. He was actually living his life and earning his tiredness. It was liberating. Fiona threw some shifts at her diner at him each week to help boost his income and he was at the college studying for his GED. It was a normal, functioning existence that he thought would never happen for him. Ian wasn’t pushing the idea of marriage and kids so much these days. In the month since he spoke to his doctor about having a kid they hadn’t done anything more about it. The idea was marinating in their minds slowly but the more they didn’t talk about it, the more Mickey thought about it. This home he’d made with Ian was crying out for an official family stamp. 

“That was a long fuckin shift.” Ian groaned and flopped onto the sofa. 

“You’d better not be covered in piss, shit or vomit.” Mickey warned from the kitchen where he was making dinner. 

“No. Just the blood of the not-so-innocent.” Ian joked and gasped when the air was knocked out of him when Mickey appeared from nowhere and crawled up his prone body. When he was settled on Ian’s ass he squeezed the tense knots in Ian’s shoulders. 

“Oh you’re gonna get so lucky tonight.” Ian moaned. 

“Promises, promises.” Mickey leaned down to kiss the back of Ian’s head. 

Ian used his superior strength to flip over without dislodging Mickey so when they settled again the older man was resting on Ian’s crotch. 

“Good day, dear?” He smiled up at Mickey. 

“Eh. It was okay. I’m flying through math and I’m sure my teacher has figured out why.” He smirked. 

“Because you’re very resourceful.” Ian replied and ran his fingertip over the buckle on Mickey’s belt. 

Mickey rolled his hips once then stopped. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Tease.”

“Call it extended foreplay.” Mickey bent and pecked Ian’s pouting lips. 

“You hate foreplay.”

“Things change.” Mickey shrugged and clambered off Ian’s midsection. Ian let him go and went to take a shower while Mickey dished up dinner. They sat together at the little dining table in the kitchen and tucked into the enchiladas. 

“Damn this is good.” Ian grinned and shovelled more food into his mouth. 

Mickey smiled shyly, always unable to take a compliment well. He knew Ian loved his cooking and the redhead always praised him for it. “How was your day?”

“Decent. Nothing too serious going down. Managed to catch up on my some paperwork. Pretty dull actually. Oh, but I did get an email from Olivia at the Rose Garden. They’re having a wedding competition and she wanted to know if we were interested in entering.”

“A wedding competition?” Mickey frowned. 

“Yeah. Like, win a wedding. I checked out the link she sent and they do some awesome shit. String quartets, ice sculptures...crazy!” Ian grinned. 

“And she wants us to enter?”

“Mm-hmm.” Ian scooped more food onto his plate. “Seemed like a good idea. Not like we could afford to pay for our own wedding there.”

“There or anywhere else.” Mickey chipped in. 

“True.” Ian chuckled. 

“You forgetting something?” 

A frown cast over Ian’s face. “What?”

“We’re not actually engaged.” Mickey smirked. 

Ian’s mouth fell open and he tilted his head. “Shit. You’re right.”

“How did you forget that you’ve never actually asked me to marry you?” Mickey tipped his head back and laughed joyfully. 

Ian blushed and shook his head. “I guess, in my head, we just...were?”

“I see.” Mickey pushed his empty plate away. “I don’t even deserve a proper proposal huh?”

“No! Mick...it’s not...you’re winding me up aren’t you?”

Mickey giggled and reached out to stroke Ian’s hair off his forehead. “Yes, dear.”

Ian was pale and his lip quivered. “Fuck...I got this all messed up didn’t I?”

“No of course not. It doesn’t matter.” Mickey assured him. And it didn’t. Not really. How could it? Having the love of your life feel such contentment that his own mind tricked him into thinking they were already destined to be together forever was special in its own way. 

Ian smiled softly, almost shyly, and slid to the floor in the middle of their kitchen. He stayed on his knees beside Mickey, who rolled his eyes to the ceiling and leaned his chin on his palm while he waited for Ian to speak. 

“Mikhailo, I love you more than anything. You make me happier than I’ve ever been. And if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life pissing you off and making you laugh. And I want you to spend the rest of yours with me because even though I’m 100% sure you can do better than marry a Gallagher, I don’t want you to. So...I’m sorry it worked out this way and I don’t have a ring for you yet but...”

“Jesus Christ. Save the fuckin speech, you pussy. I’ll marry you.”

Ian’s emerald eyes sparkled. “You will?”

“Of course I will.”

Ian surged forward and grabbed Mickey up in tight hug. “I love you so much.”

“I know. Love you too.” Mickey kissed him gently. 

They hugged it out for a long while before Mickey pulled back. “Enter the competition.”

Ian grinned sheepishly. “Kinda already did.”

Mickey chuckled and looked to the ceiling, mouthing to the gods. “ _Give me strength_.”


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan comes together.

Fiona paused with the coffee pot in mid-air, gaping at Ian like he had two noses on his face. 

“Married?” She hissed. “ _Married_?”

Ian glanced at Sue, who was hiding behind her menu and trying not to laugh out loud, and then back to Fiona. “Yeah.”

Fiona’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she could speak. “It’s just so...”

“Romantic?” Ian offered. “Exciting?”

“Fast.” Fiona stated and poured the coffee into Sue’s cup. “I mean, it hasn’t even been a year yet.”

“It’s a year next Friday that we met.” Ian replied with a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m taking him to dinner to celebrate.”

“Oh lovely!” Sue chipped in. “Where?”

“Norman’s.”

“Ooh fancy!” Sue beamed. 

“Mick’s been craving crab cakes like he’s six months pregnant lately and this place gets awesome reviews so I thought it would be a nice treat since he does like 99% of the cooking at home...” Ian chatted happily until Fiona waved her hand to get his attention back.

“Ian, sweetface, I know you guys are crazy in love and living the dream but don’t you think you’re moving too fast right now? I’m not saying stop but maybe, you know, just pump the brakes a little?” She sighed softly. 

Ian smiled serenely at his big sister. He understood her concern. It’s not like any of them had grown up around examples of solid, loving relationships. Except maybe Kev and Vee but they were absolutely an exception to the South Side definition of love and family. Fiona had every right to worry this would blow up in his face. That’s all they’d ever witnessed with their parents. But Ian also knew with complete certainty that pumping the brakes just wasn’t an option for him. 

“I love him, Fi. It wouldn’t matter if it’d been a year or a decade...he’s it for me. I’ve known it from the start. This is just the inevitable playing out.” He told her gently, with a sweet smile. 

Fiona’s anxious expression melted away and she smiled warmly, nodding her head in acceptance. “I know, sweetface. I’m happy for you.”

Ian pulled her by the hand into a tight hug. “I love you, sis.”

“Stop it. Nobody in this place is allowed to see me cry. I can’t show weakness around these assholes.” She chuckled and pulled away, slapping gently at Ian’s shoulder. “I’ll be back soon with your breakfast.”

When she bustled away Sue lowered her menu. “She didn’t take our order.”

Ian giggled happily. “S’okay. She always gets it right.”

“It’s good to see you two playing nice with all this going on. I know she pisses you off sometimes.” Sue acknowledged. 

Ian nodded. “I just have to remember she means well and it’s better to stay calm and not lock horns with her.”

“That’s very mature, Ian. I’d say you’re definitely ready for marriage.”

Ian clinked his coffee cup against Sue’s. “Amen.”

Lip was a little surprised and yet not at all surprised when Ian called to tell him he was officially engaged. 

“You weren't already?” Lip frowned down the phone. 

Ian chuckled in amusement. “Just in my own head. Turns out I’d forgotten all about asking the other guy involved.”

“Well congrats, man. Happy for you.” 

“That’s it? No warnings? No telling me I’m crazy?” Ian spluttered a laugh. 

“The fuck for? Have you ever listened to anyone when they tell you what to do? Waste of my oxygen if I tried.”

Ian heard Lip sucking on his cigarette and blowing out the smoke. “But you do think it’s crazy...”

Lip chuckled harshly. “I think the whole institution of marriage is crazy. Legally and financially binding yourself to someone for life? Fuck. That.”

“Even if you love the person?”

Lip laughed harder. “ _Especially_ if you love the person! Who the fuck makes sound decisions about anything when love is clouding their judgement? Listen, I’m happy that you’re happy and if this is what you want then that’s cool. Behind you all the way.”

“Thanks.” Ian breathed. 

“And I know Mickey isn’t exactly the type of guy you find in romance novels but he’s got his shit together and he’s devoted to you. I can’t ask for more than that as your brother.” Lip added. 

“Yeah.” Ian chuckled. 

“I guess I should start working on my best man speech.” Lip mused and Ian choked. 

“Umm...about that...”

“What?”

“I kinda already have a best man.” 

“ _What_?” Lip shrieked. “Who?”

“Carl.”

“ _Carl_?” Lip’s voice rose higher. “The fuck is that about?”

Ian chuckled nervously. “He asked when he was in the hospital. Said it could be my way of thanking him for giving Mick his kidney.”

“Well holy fuck. You think you know someone.” Lip huffed and lit up another cigarette. “I hope you know you’re dead to me.”

Ian laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic. You can still plan my bachelor party.”

“Only because you don’t trust Carl not to get you killed or arrested!” Lip retorted. “Well tough. Good luck making it to your wedding day, punk.”

Ian burst into hysterical laughter when the connection cut off and he was left with the dial tone in his ear. Mickey picked that moment to walk into their apartment and stopped in his tracks. 

“You okay over there, Giggles?”

“I just majorly pissed Lip off.” Ian wiped his eyes. 

“Oh?”

“I told him Carl was gonna be my best man at the wedding. He lost his shit.” Ian chuckled. 

Mickey gaped at him. “You can’t have Carl.”

“Uh...I think I get to choose my best man.” Ian retorted, folding his arms across his chest. 

“You can. You can choose anyone in the world. Except Carl.” Mickey frowned and bit his lip. 

“What the fuck?”

“I want him to be my best man.” Mickey blurted out and blushed to his roots. 

“You do?” Ian exhaled his held breath. 

“Well who the fuck else am I gonna have? He’s my best friend, after you.” Mickey’s temper rose. 

Ian smiled warmly and moved to embrace Mickey’s rigid body. “That’s sweet.”

“Fuck off.” Mickey shoved Ian away and stomped into the kitchen. “My lack of friends is not funny.”

“I’m not laughing! Not at that anyway.” Ian followed him. “It is sweet. You’re my best friend too.”

Mickey leaned his hip against the counter and rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

Ian moved closer and ran his hands up and down Mickey’s arms to soothe him. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be nervous about anything. We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. And if you want Carl, that’s fine. I’m sure he’d be thrilled if you asked him. He only wanted to be mine to get at Lip.”

Mickey sighed and dropped his head onto Ian’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Come on. Let’s go out for dinner.”

“We’re going out on Friday...” Mickey frowned at the thought of their bank balance. 

“It’s fine. We saved a fortune this week with your extreme couponing.”

Mickey smirked proudly. “I’m getting so good at that shit.”

“I know. Next week they’ll owe us money.” Ian kissed him briefly. 

Mickey knew exactly what game Ian was playing when he suggested the Shack for something to eat. Carl was behind the counter when they walked inside and his face lit up with the model smile he gave them. 

“Hey. What are you guys doing here?” He leaned over to bump fists with them. 

“Just grabbing some food.”

“Cool. Grab a seat and I’ll bring over a selection of our finest offerings.” Carl winked. 

When he returned to their table ten minutes later he had a tray crammed with a veritable buffet of fried foods and a couple of sodas. He waved at the tray as he sat down opposite them in the booth. 

“I’m on a break. Mind if I join you?”

Ian shook his head. “Sure. This is a lot of food.”

Carl shrugged. “I get to eat once per shift for free. Lori has never been specific about the portion size. Besides, if I let her brush up against me in the back a couple times she turns a blind eye to most things.”

Mickey shuddered. “Wow. That’s...disturbing.”

Carl chuckled and tossed some popcorn shrimp into his mouth. “Gotta play the game to win sometimes.”

“Mickey wants to ask you something.” Ian blurted out before the conversation could change direction and smiled widely in response to Mickey’s stern glare. 

“Oh? What’s up?” Carl glanced between them. 

“When we get married...” Mickey sighed, feeling ridiculously self-conscious. “...will you be my best man?”

Carl’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “For real?”

Mickey nodded. “Don’t be reading too much into it. I ain’t got a lot of fuckin choices.”

Carl giggled and reached for more food. “I wasn’t taking it as a declaration of love, Mick.”

Ian nudged Mickey in the side and nodded theatrically. “Say it.”

Mickey blushed furiously and stared at the tray intently. “Turns out, you’re the best friend I’ve got.”

Carl’s teasing riposte evaporated when he saw how difficult that was for Mickey to say. Their friendship was based on several things: shared interest in tv shows about plane crashes and blowing shit up (not always mutually exclusive events) and their preference for avoiding big crowds to shoot the shit together in peace. Carl was a welcome regular at their apartment, even more so when Ian was on night shifts and Mickey would be left alone all week. Pizza was consumed, banter was traded but they didn’t talk so much about their feelings. Their kidney rehoming deal didn’t play into it at all. Their friendship was simple. It was relaxed. It was reliable and it was solid. 

“You’re mine too, if that helps.” Carl stated simply. “Sorry about that.”

Mickey grinned. “So, will you do it?”

Carl nodded firmly. “Of course. I’d love to. I’ll start on bachelor party plans now.”

“No strippers.” Ian interjected. 

“Whoa now, less of the rules there Gallagher. Speak to your own best man about that shit.” Mickey snarked with a smile before turning back to Carl. “No _female_ strippers.”

Carl saluted and laughed heartily. “I’ll hit up Boystown and find the best talent, don’t worry.”

“He’s not worried. It’s me that’s worried.” Ian retorted. 

“You should be, I assume you’re gonna have Lip organizing yours and he is boring as fuck these days. Yours is gonna be non-alcoholic punch in the MIT library.” Carl taunted. 

“Suits me fine.” Ian flipped him off. 

Carl stuffed one last fish bite in his mouth and rose to his feet. “Break’s over. Catch you guys later.”

“Thanks for this Carl.” Mickey smiled. 

“Anytime bro.” The younger man replied and tapped his fist against his shoulder as he passed. 

Ian was at work when his cell rang. It was Friday, his and Mickey’s one year anniversary and a mere half hour until he knocked off to go celebrate. He waved to Sue that he would be a minute and connected the call, perching on the gurney in the back of the rig. 

“Mr Gallagher, how are you today?” A cheerful British voice greeted him. 

Ian chuckled. “Hey Olivia. I’m good. How’s life in the Rose Garden?”

“Blooming lovely.” She giggled. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“I’m at work but I’ve got time.”

“Good. I just wanted to call and say congratulations. You’re the winning entrant of our winter wedding competition!”

Ian nearly dropped the phone. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. You and Mickey are the lucky, completely randomly selected recipients of the prize!” Olivia trilled cheerfully. 

“Randomly selected huh?” Ian giggled, feeling utterly elated. 

“Yes indeed. I drew the winners myself, just to make sure there was no tampering involved.”

Ian closed his eyes to stem the flow of tears and exhaled shakily. “You are one hell of a woman, Olivia. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure. So, how about you and Mickey pop along for a complimentary night stay in a couple of weeks time and have a chat with your wedding planner about what ideas you might have.”

“We get a wedding planner?” 

“Yes. Me.” Olivia breathed a laugh. “And I can’t wait to help you make the day you’ve dreamed of become a reality.”

“I need to hang up before you hear me cry like a baby.”

“You go ahead. I’ll call next week to make arrangements for your stay.”

“Thank you. _So_ much.”

“You’re welcome. Bye Ian.”

The line clicked off and Ian was left holding his phone, staring at it like he’d never seen one before. 

“Earth to Ian, come in Ian.” Sue’s voice drifted into the ambulance. “You okay?”

“I’m getting married.” He grinned. 

Sue frowned. “I know...”

“No, I’m actually _getting_ married. We won the wedding competition.”

His partner squealed and threw her arms around him. “That’s amazing!”

“I gotta call Mick. He’s gonna shit a brick.” Ian laughed and hugged her. 

“Go on home. I’ll finish the clean up.”

“It’s okay...”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Go. You guys deserve this. Celebrate with crab cakes and other things that I don’t need details about.”

Mickey rewarded Ian with a maximum effort blowjob in the shower after Ian joined him to get ready for their dinner date. 

“You know I didn’t do anything, right?” Ian gripped the tile for balance when Mickey did that thing with his tongue that made his spine tingle. 

“Mmm-hmm,” Mickey hummed around Ian’s dick. “Shut up and enjoy it.”

Ian closed his eyes and let the warm spray of the shower wash away his day at work while Mickey took care of the rest. He came with a jolt in an embarrassingly short amount of time. 

“Motherfucker!” Mickey choked and spluttered. “A bit of fuckin warning wouldn’t go amiss. Jesus.”

Ian gasped for breath and helped Mickey to his feet. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“No shit.” Mickey tilted his face into the spray and leaned against Ian’s lean, wet body. The redhead wrapped his fiancé up in a hug and kissed the top of his head. 

“I fuckin love you.” He murmured. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“You’re particularly gay today. Everything okay?” Mickey smirked. 

Ian burst into laughter. “Says last night’s bottom and today’s cocksucker.”

“Liking what I like don’t make me a bitch.” Mickey sniffed and reached for the shampoo, lathering Ian’s hair first and then his own. 

“Guess I’m just a little emotional today. Being with someone for a full year is a big deal. Never got anywhere close to that before. A year with you...that’s just crazy special to me. And then the wedding news...” Ian tried to explain and Mickey cut him off with a tender kiss. 

“I get it. A year is a big deal. A year ago I was trying not to think about time passing, you know? Time was something I didn’t have. Now I’m making plans and not worrying about the same stuff I used to. It’s special. You did that for me.”

“Carl helped a lot.” Ian smiled weakly. 

“He did. And I will be forever in his debt. But you’re the one who saw something in me, pushed me when I needed to be pushed, ignored me when I said shit I didn’t mean, ignored me when I said shit I _did_ mean...”

Ian giggled into Mickey’s shoulder. “Yeah.”

“You got me here, Ian. Carl gave me the kidney but you gave me everything else.” Mickey ran his fingers through Ian’s hair and rinsed out the suds. When he was done Ian switched them around and did the same to Mickey. When they were done Ian shut off the water and stepped out of the tub, passing a towel to Mickey. As they dried off Mickey had a faraway look in his eyes and Ian smiled softly. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, waiting to hear some deep, profound thought. 

Mickey smiled dreamily. “Crab cakes.”

Ian huffed a laugh and shook his head. “ _Ask a stupid question_.” He thought to himself. 

Olivia seemed genuinely thrilled to see Ian and Mickey again, welcoming them with hugs and a key to the suite they stayed in last time. Mickey was rigid when Olivia hugged him and she brushed it off with a chuckle. 

“Not a hugger. Noted. So, let’s grab a drink in the bar and catch up.”

Once they were settled with cups of tea, since Ian and Mickey both avoided alcohol for the most part, they filled Olivia in on the surgery, the moving in together and the proposal. 

“Well that is pretty damn unconventional.” Olivia drawled in her native Arkansas accent, making Mickey tip his head back and laugh. 

“So the wedding options you have are any day in December, with the exception of a Saturday. Those are too much of a money maker for the management to give up for a freebie. You pick your date and get back to me, I’ll book in all of your extras and we’re good to go.” She explained cheerfully. 

“Extras?” Ian looked uncertain. 

“You’ll need an officiant, a band, a DJ, children’s entertainment maybe, oh and maybe one of those cute lil camper van things that park up and serve guests donuts!” Olivia’s accent peaked and Mickey could barely hold it together. 

“Man, it’s like meeting your evil twin.” 

She smirked and sipped her tea daintily. “If I suddenly switch back it’s just because someone else is in earshot. Gotta keep it up in public.”

“All the extras...how much do we have to pay for stuff like that? We haven’t really set a budget yet.” Ian chewed on his lip. 

“All included. You don’t pay for anything. The only thing we want in return is our own photographer there to capture some shots for our website and a couple of sound bites from you guys to say how amazing we are at weddings. That’s it.” She replied with a shrug. “Just the usual PR stunt rules apply.”

Ian and Mickey shared a look. “And everyone is okay with a pair of hood rat fags winning the prize?” Ian asked. 

Olivia smirked again and leaned closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Equality, diversity and inclusion? Tick tick tick. Could only be better from a PR perspective if one of you was black and the other in a wheelchair.”

“Olivia Driscoll!” Mickey gasped, hand over his mouth. “You’re a sassy motherfucker aren’t you?”

“On the inside. On the outside I am the reigning world champion of zen.”

Mickey raised his cup of tea. “To our sassy wedding planner, may she fight the good fight for many years to come.”

They clinked their china cups and Olivia blushed a little. “Actually,” she whispered. “I will be taking some time off after your big day. I’m pregnant.”

Ian’s mouth fell open and he gasped. “That’s brilliant news! Congratulations!”

“Awesome!” Mickey added. “Well done on the getting laid thing.”

Olivia covered her mouth to stop her shriek of laughter. “Thanks. Tough job but someone had to do it.”

“When is the baby due?” He asked. 

“End of January. Your wedding will probably be one of the last things I do before I go so we’ve got to make it a good one!”

By the time Olivia waved them off for their journey home the guys had eaten more fine food and imbibed more cups of tea than anyone had a right to. They’d also decided on a Sunday wedding, two days before Christmas. Olivia approved of the date knowing the hotel was very quiet in the week leading up to Christmas Day and only for busy when people came on the day itself for a proper British lunch with all the trimmings. 

“December 23rd.” Ian mused aloud as he drove them home to Chicago. 

“Save the date.” Mickey grinned sleepily from the passenger seat. 

“It’s only a few months.” Ian sighed, thinking of everything they needed to arrange. “We have a lot to sort out.”

Mickey’s phone beeped and he opened his email from Olivia, who in the two hours since they’d last seen her had rallied to start on their big day. She’d booked in the lady who would officiate for them. There was an attachment for several catering options to choose from. There was a folder with a multitude of color schemes and decor ideas. Finally there was a catalogue with tuxedos and outfits to pick from. 

“Uh...I think Olivia has it covered.” He laughed and replied to her email with a meme of someone’s cartoon head exploding and a line of kisses. 

“We’re lucky to have her.” Ian reached for Mickey’s hand across the console. 

“She came into our lives at the perfect time. I thought giving us that lube would be her greatest act of kindness but look what we have now.” Mickey joked and squeezed Ian’s offered hand, lacing their fingers together. 

Ian glanced sideways to smile at Mickey. “Next year, after the wedding...”

“Kids.” Mickey smiled back shyly. 

“Maybe just one kid to start us off.”

Mickey nodded, his expression soft. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

He closed his eyes to take a nap while Ian looked back at the road. Everything was changing and yet he felt no fear. This was where he was meant to be. 


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding draws closer, and so do the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve recently returned to Tumblr, mostly just to check it out and lurk, but come say hi if you’re in the area! 🙃 @dodgerbear84

After a year of knowing Mickey, Ian was sure he’d seen and fallen in love with every facet of Mickey’s personality. He was proven entirely wrong when he got to meet a side to Mickey that the older man had previously had no reason to show off. Groomzilla Mickey was a hilarious asshole. He had Olivia on speed dial and spent at least an hour every day on the phone to her putting plans in place for the wedding and having, what Ian quickly realized, a bloody good gossip. 

“I want the gold.” Mickey thrust a magazine at Ian, who gazed wide-eyed at the options of chairs. “What do you think?”

Ian closed the magazine and tossed it onto the table. “I think you’ve already made a decision.”

“Ian, you have to have some input.” Mickey whined. 

The redhead rolled his eyes. “You want my input? Fine. My input is that everything you want is fine with me. I don’t care about the color of chairs or where the fuckin flowers go. I just want to marry you. You want gold? Gold it is.”

“What’s with the attitude? Someone’s gotta pick this shit. If it was left to you we’d be getting married in a fuckin Domino’s parking lot!” Mickey growled. 

Ian tipped his head back to lean on the sofa and closed his eyes. “I’m tired, Mick. I’m fresh off a double shift where we lost a six year old girl who got hit by a car riding her bike in the street. I’m tired and I’m sad and I don’t have the energy to pretend to give a shit about what kind of chairs to have or what food we eat. In fact, I’m struggling to see why you give a shit all of a sudden. You never struck me as that kinda fag if I’m honest. So you pick the chairs. You pick the food. You can even pick what color scheme. You pick whatever you fuck you want and I’ll turn up with smile on my face ready to marry my soulmate. How about that?”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day. I’m sorry you lost that girl. I’m sorry if this is not what you want.” Mickey sighed and shuffled off to the kitchen. Ian groaned and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t mean to snap at Mickey. It had been a long, awful day and he just wanted to fool around with Mickey and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. With great effort he hauled himself to his feet and followed Mickey to the kitchen, where the older man was peeling potatoes at the sink. 

“I’m sorry, Mick. Really. I shouldn’t be taking my shit day out on you.” He ran his hands down Mickey’s neck and squeezed his shoulders. 

“It’s fine. I’m pushing too hard with the wedding shit. If it’s not your thing, it’s fine. I can sort it out.” Mickey replied with a shrug. 

“It’s not that it’s not my thing...” Ian tried to explain, resting his chin on Mickey’s shoulder and inhaling the comforting smell of the apple shampoo he used. “I just don’t know anything about this stuff. I want it to be perfect for you.”

“And I want it to be perfect for you.” Mickey argued gently. 

“If I end the day married to you then it will have been perfect.” Ian murmured. “The other stuff is just fancy packaging.”

“Fancy packaging that someone else is paying for and you have no interest in exploiting. I just need to know if you prefer chicken or beef for the food. Or gold or white for the chairs. I want it to be your day too.” Mickey sniffed, his hands gripping the potato and peeler tight. 

Ian’s hands moved to take them out of Mickey’s grip and slowly turned Mickey to face him. “I know. And I’m sorry if I made you think I wasn’t into it. I’ll do better.”

“I’m really sorry about your day. Seeing that shit must really fuck with your head.” Mickey met his gaze with a soft smile. 

“It does. But if I let it stick in my head I wouldn’t get back out there. And some days we get to be the difference and actually save people. I keep going for that.” Ian smiled back. 

“You’re amazing.” Mickey murmured quietly. “I love you.”

Ian lowered his face and gently brushed his lips against Mickey’s. “I love you too. And I like the gold.”

“Oh we are totally having the gold.” Mickey grinned and Ian chuckled under his breath when Mickey added. “And chicken.”

Lip was the last to arrive in the Gallagher house and Fiona yelled at him to get into position. Ian had already texted ahead to say he was two minutes away with Mickey and she’d gone to a lot of effort to make this special. The last thing she needed was Lip giving the game away because he couldn’t read a fuckin clock. 

“They’re coming.” She hissed when she heard voices coming from the front porch. 

Everything but essential breathing stopped until Mickey opened the door to the house and stepped inside. 

“SURPRISE!”

Mickey rocked back and forth on the spot. “What the fuck?”

Ian rubbed his shoulders from behind. “Welcome to your first Gallagher surprise party.”

Fiona surged toward him and wrapped him up in a hug. “I’m so proud of you!”

Mickey stood like he was cast from stone at the outpouring of affection. “What...?”

Debbie was next, filling Mickey’s arms as soon as Fiona stepped away. “Well done Mickey. Passing your GED is an awesome achievement.”

Thankfully that was the end of the huggers and Mickey was then on the receiving end of high fives and fist bumps from Liam, Lip, and Kev until finally Carl winked at him and dragged him away from the group and into the kitchen. 

“Thanks man.” Mickey breathed. “That was intense.”

Carl chuckled and reached into the fridge for a beer. He pulled out one standard and one zero alcohol and passed it off to Mickey. “They mean well. Not often we’ve got anything legit to celebrate around here.”

“I know. Still getting my head around the whole family thing.” Mickey sighed and leaned against the sink. 

“The good outweighs the bad.” Carl smiled reassuringly. “Especially when you need bail money.”

Mickey snorted a laugh. “Noted.”

Lip appeared in the archway and smiled softly at Mickey. “You aced it huh?”

Mickey blushed and shifted his weight to his other foot. “I did okay.”

“Not what I heard.” Lip smirked. “Highest math grade in the last decade is what I heard.”

“Oh yeah.” Carl beamed and raised his hand. Mickey stared at him in bewilderment. 

“Don’t you dare leave me hanging.”

Mickey high-fived Carl and blushed even harder. “Okay can we shut the fuck up about it now?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Tonight we get to celebrate Mickey Milkovich in all his nerdy glory.” Lip clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Fuck off.” Mickey glowered, hiding his smile behind profanity. 

“Seriously, you did good. Be proud of yourself.” Lip urged. “We all are.”

Mickey nodded once and sipped his drink. “Thanks.”

A couple of hours later Ian and Mickey were the only sober people at the party. Everyone else was ranging from tipsy to blitzed and Mickey had no issue with dragging Ian aside while everyone was distracted and forming his own entertainment. 

“Oh I see what’s happening here.” Ian grinned when Mickey shoved him into the downstairs toilet and locked the door. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Mickey smashed his mouth to Ian’s and kissed him deeply. 

Ian responded immediately and sank his fingers into Mickey’s hair, tugging and pulling so his face was tilted at just the right angle for Ian to kiss him. Mickey held on tight to Ian’s trim waist. 

“God, you turn me on so much.” Ian broke away to breathe heavily. 

“Mmm.” Mickey agreed as he moved to suck on the tendon in Ian’s neck. “Wanna take me home?”

“Soon.” Ian nodded and Mickey groaned with disappointment. “But until then you can just think of all the things you want me to do to you.”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s face in his hands and kissed him hard. “Fuckin tease.”

Their make out session was halted by someone banging on the door. 

“Need to pee, man.” Liam called from beyond the door. “You guys finished?”

Mickey’s head fell back against the wall with a loud thunk. “This family...I swear to God...”

Ian chuckled and unlocked the door, pushing Mickey out into the kitchen. “All done.” He grinned at Liam, who rolled his eyes and closed the door with a slam. 

“Take. Me. Home.” Mickey growled at Ian and the redhead giggled. Demanding Mickey was one of his favorite Mickeys. 

Mickey was doing a lock up shift at the diner a couple of weeks after he finished his GED and it was like a morgue. Fiona didn’t need long to see the hard-working side of Mickey and his eagerness to be a productive member of society shone through. She started to trust him to lock up after a month of working there and Mickey jumped at the chance, especially when Ian was on night shift. It meant he had his day free and then the busy evening shift to work before closing up at eleven. By the time he got home it was after midnight and he was exhausted, which meant he could sleep easily without feeling the usual sadness of missing Ian’s warm body beside him in bed. 

“Hey Mick.” Lip greeted, dropping onto a stool at the counter. 

“Hey. What can I get ya?”

“Uh...coffee. Black.” Lip shrugged off his thick coat and placed his cigarettes on the counter. “You got any of that peach cobbler?”

Mickey grinned. “Sure.”

Once Lip was set with his order he cut to the chase and had Mickey stop to chat for a moment. 

“I got a friend, name’s Brad, he runs a garage over on South Michigan. He needs an office manager. I told him about you and he wants you to go see him at the place tomorrow. You interested?”

Mickey’s eyebrows quirked up and he squinted. “What the fuck is an office manager?”

Lip smiled. “It’s pretty much running everything in the operation other than fixing shit. He needs someone good with numbers to do the books and payroll, stock control, organizing breakdown pick ups, distribution. That sort of thing.”

Mickey pressed his palms to the counter and leaned closer. “That sounds like a fuck ton of responsibility for someone who’s work experience totals serving coffee and pie in a diner for three months.”

“Maybe...”

“So why me? You got something on this guy and you’re leveraging him to get me a job?” Mickey suggested, standing upright and folding his arms across his chest. 

“No.” Lip snorted a laugh. “I just think it’s a good fit for you. I think you’d be up to the task. And Brad is a cool guy.”

Mickey took a breath and sighed. “What if I fuck up?”

“You’re not gonna fuck up.” Lip retorted. “He’s gonna train you up on what he wants you to do. If you fuck up it’s probably his fault for not training you properly.”

“And you think he’ll see it that way?” 

Lip grinned and sipped his coffee. “How about you come meet him and see what you think? It could be your first shot at a decent job where you use your skills and talent. Then there’s the boring shit like 401ks and medical insurance. Tell me that’s not giving you a boner just thinking about it...”

Mickey rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Please don’t even think about me having a boner.”

“Come on, what do you say?”

“Fine.” Mickey huffed. “I’ll go.”

Lip clapped his hands. “Awesome. I’ll pick you up at eight in the morning.”

Mickey stalked away to clean down some tables and tried to stop his hands from shaking. It couldn’t be as simple as Lip made it out to be. There had to be a catch and he couldn’t let himself get hopeful or excited until he found out what that catch was and whether he could live with it. 

Ian had no idea where Mickey was sneaking out to so early in the morning but he let him go and knew he would get the answer later in the day. He slept for a few hours and then headed over to the Gallagher house to catch up with Liam. They were eating cereal at the table in the middle of the afternoon when Frank stumbled in from the yard. 

“What do you want Frank?” Liam groaned, pushing his bowl away. 

“There he is! My youngest offspring, keeper of my hopes and dreams!” Frank waved his hand in the air and headed straight to the fridge, pulling out and beer and some ham. 

“What do you want Frank?” Ian repeated the question stonily. 

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, since when do I answer to you? Am I not allowed a beer and a sandwich in my home?”

“Not your food, not your beer, not your home. Fuck off before Fiona gets back. You know how crazy she got last time you came here...” Ian warned. 

“Well excuse me. Since you don’t live here anymore I don’t think I have to listen to your “words of advice” anymore.” The elder Gallagher announced and started to rifle through drawers and cupboards, undoubtedly looking for the squirrel fund. 

Liam rose to his feet. “You’re drunk, Frank. We don’t have any money so you might as well leave.”

Frank reeled around on his youngest son and lowered his face to the boy’s, spit flying out of his mouth as he snarled. “Don’t tell me what to do, you little shit.”

Ian had seen enough and grabbed Frank under the elbow, hauling him away from Liam. “Enough. Get the hell out.”

Ian was too distracted by Frank knocking over a chair that he missed the action as it happened. Frank had leaned back and then surged forward, cracking his head on Ian’s face and making the redhead scream out in pain when it connected above his left eye. 

“Fuck!” He hissed as he felt the blood run into his eye. It only spurred him on and he forcibly grabbed Frank around the middle and lifted him off his feet. Liam quickly pulled open the door and Ian tossed the angry, wriggling man in his arms out onto the steps and released him. 

“Fuck off, Frank. Nobody wants you here.” Ian yelled and booted him down the last few steps until he sprawled on the lawn. Ian stomped back inside and slammed the door, leaning breathlessly against it. 

“He’s never gonna change, is he?” Liam sighed and wet some paper towels at the sink. 

“Nope. Never.” Ian sighed. He dabbed his eye with the paper towel and winced when he saw how much blood was streaming down his face. “Fuck. Gonna have to fix this up. Wanna come over my place for a while?”

Liam nodded and grabbed up his books before following Ian over the road to his apartment. 

Mickey was prepping chicken for dinner when he heard the door open and footsteps come in. 

“Hey Gallagher, I got news.” He called out. 

Ian pointed Liam in the direction of the kitchen. “Use the table to study. And help yourself to a soda.”

Liam smiled at Mickey when he saw him. “Hey Mickey.”

“Oh hey. Where’s Ian?”

“Bathroom. Getting cleaned up.” Liam said vaguely as he searched the fridge for some soda. 

“He okay?”

“Uh...yeah...”

Mickey raised his left eyebrow in disbelief and made his way to the bathroom, pushing the door open and gasping when he saw what looked like a scene from CSI. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He bellowed. 

Ian smiled weakly from where he was perched on the edge of the bath as he applied antiseptic to the cut on his brow. “Hey. Looks worse than it is. What’s your news?”

“No way. No fuckin diversions. What is this?” Mickey demanded and moved Ian’s hand away. 

“Mick...” Ian sighed. 

Liam appeared behind them in the doorway. “It was Frank. He was drunk and looking for money and Ian tried to get him to leave...”

“Liam.” Ian groaned. “Fuck sake.”

“Frank did this?” Mickey demanded. “And you weren’t gonna tell me?”

Ian sighed heavily. “Mickey, leave it. Please. He’s not worth it.”

“Your face is smashed in!” 

“I’m fine.”

Mickey reeled around and pointed to Liam. “Stay here.”

“Mick! Where are you going?” Ian snapped. 

“For a walk.” Mickey yelled back and stormed out of the apartment. 

Liam sighed and sat on the toilet seat next to Ian. “Sorry.”

“S’okay. Was gonna have to tell him eventually. I just knew he’d go nuclear. He’s not Frank’s biggest fan on a good day.” Ian reached for the medical box under the sink and found his suture kit and a magnifying mirror. Liam jumped to his feet and hastily made his exit. 

“I am not okay with watching you stitch your own eyebrow back on.” 

Ian chuckled softly. “Pussy.”

Mickey tracked Frank down within twelve minutes, which also happened to be the amount of time it took for someone who was 5’7 with the temperament of a raging bull to storm from Mickey’s apartment to the Alibi. The door was still bouncing off the wall when he launched across the room and hauled Frank to his feet. 

“What the...” Frank shrieked and Mickey pushed harder on his throat until the older man was bent backwards over the bar. 

“Whoa, what’s goin on?” A guy in a plaid shirt and baseball cap leapt away from the beer as it sailed out of Frank’s hand. 

Kev burst out from the back at the sound of breaking glass. “Tommy? What...? Oh Jesus. Mickey what the hell are you doing?”

“This is between me and this waste of fuckin skin.” Mickey snarled in Frank’s face. 

“Can’t...breathe...”

“This ends now. You lay a fingernail on him, you touch one red hair on his head one more time...ONE MORE FUCKIN TIME...and I will end you. Do you hear what I’m saying, Frank?”

Frank nodded frantically. “Let. Me. Breathe.”

“Only when I’m sure you understand what I’m saying. You touch him, or any of them, ever again and what will happen?”

“End...”

“End you. Yes. Correct. And it won’t be quick and it won’t be painless. You have my word.”

“Yes.” Frank gasped, red in the face. 

“Mickey, let him go.” Kev urged. “He heard you.”

“Get the door.” Mickey met Kev’s eyes and the big man swept out from behind the bar and opened the door. Mickey dragged Frank by the throat and tossed him out onto the street, slamming the door behind him. Mickey took some deep, calming breaths and flinched with Kev clamped a hand on his shoulder. 

“Let me get you a beer.”

Mickey turned and saw the wide-eyed stare of the half dozen patrons in the bar. “Water. I don’t drink.”

“Sure. Take a seat.” Kev waved to the bar stools and headed back behind the bar. “Guys, this is Mickey. Him and Ian are a couple. Getting married in a couple months, right? Mick, this is Tommy and Kermit.”

A glass of water appeared on the bar and Mickey took a gulp, nodding his greeting at the two men propping up the bar. 

“You and Ian, huh?” Tommy smiled. “Congrats. He’s a decent kid. Not like his old man.”

Mickey snorted. “No shit.”

“Frank knocked Ian around again?” Kev asked softly. 

“Again?” Mickey felt his pulse throb in his ears. “This a regular fuckin event?”

Kev shrugged. “Frank’s Frank, you know? The drink. The drugs. They fuck him up. Ian’s an easy target cuz he’s a reminder of Monica betraying him with his brother.”

Mickey’s eyes narrowed to dangerous points. “Well he’s hurt him for the last time if he knows what’s good for him. Next time, he’s going in the lake with a dumbbell down his pants.”

Kev sighed and gave a soft smile. “Is Ian okay?”

“Yeah. Cut his eye. Blood all over the bathroom like a fuckin crime scene.” Mickey huffed. “I should get back. Check on him.”

Kev followed him to the door and held it open for him. He lowered his voice to a gentle murmur. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Mickey scoffed but didn’t reply, leaving the bar and making his way home at a much more sedate speed than how he arrived. 

Ian had four wonky stitches in his brow and a few patches of dried blood smeared on his face when Mickey returned. Bruising had bloomed under his eyes and it spiked Mickey’s rage to see Ian’s perfect face tainted like that. Liam was long gone and the smell of cooking in the air meant that Ian had finished off the dinner Mickey had started to prepare. 

“Hey.” Ian smiled weakly. 

“Hey.” Mickey replied, his anger deflating when he saw the sadness on Ian’s face. 

“Feel better now you’ve walked it off?” 

Mickey bit his lip. Ian had no idea that he’d gone to look for Frank, let alone that he’d found him. Mickey inhaled sharply and nodded, not wanting tonight to be ruined by that drain on society. 

“Tell me your news.” Ian urged softly. 

“I got a job.” Mickey mumbled shyly. “Lip set up a meet with his friend Brad. He’s looking for an office manager. I got the job.”

Ian’s face lit up with happiness and pride. He scooped Mickey up and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! What will you be doing?”

“All sorts of stuff. Accounting, payroll, stock management. Sounds fun. And pays way better than the diner. Steady shifts too, Monday to Friday 8 til 5 and the occasional Saturday overtime if I’m needed. I start next Wednesday.”

Ian cupped Mickey’s face in his large hands and gazed lovingly into the cerulean pools looking back at him. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve this.”

“I hope I don’t fuck up.” Mickey whispered with a shy smile. 

“You won’t.”

Ian’s lips pressed firmly on Mickey’s and he pulled back to stroke his cheekbones with his thumbs. “Let’s celebrate with some overcooked chicken and some raw fucking.”

Mickey closed his eyes and fell forward so his forehead slumped on Ian’s chest. He groaned quietly. “I’m in love with a the lamest motherfucker in the world.”

“Yes,” Ian giggled. “Yes you are.”

Thanksgiving was just around the corner and then it would be December. The wedding countdown was on. Carl was ready to party like it was 1999 for Mickey’s last hoorah as a single man but stumbled upon a tricky problem when he started planning his bachelor party blow out. Mickey didn’t actually have any friends. He knew people, sure. But they were _not_ the kind of people anyone would want rocking up at a party when the groom-to-be is a teetotal homosexual. Eventually Carl called Lip to ask what he should do, only to find his eldest brother was having much the same issue with Ian. 

“He just doesn’t really hang out with guys.” Lip sighed heavily. “There’s a few guys from work but mostly he just hangs with us and Mickey.”

Carl pondered on that for a moment before the answer came to him. “So we throw them a party we know they’ll like.”

Lip caught on immediately. “A joint thing. Ian and Mickey, with us guys.”

“Exactly.” Carl agreed. 

“You don’t think that’s gonna be lame?”

Carl chuckled down the phone. “Maybe, but it’s what they’d want.”

“And that’s why we’re doing it.” Lip replied. 

“Okay. I’ll do some planning. Leave it with me.” Carl said and immediately set about bringing the whole thing together. 

Mickey and Ian walked into the Alibi together on December 1st for what they thought was a quiet meet up with Lip and Carl to discuss wedding arrangements. The visual assault on their eyes when they walked in the door clashed with the huge, rip roaring cheer that went up and they both grabbed for the other man’s hand to steady themselves. 

“Jesus.” Mickey exhaled, his eyes scanning the bar and quickly losing count of the number of plastic penises hanging from every surface. 

Ian’s laugh bubbled up in his chest and he snorted. “What the fuck?”

Lip and Carl led them to the bar and got in a round of drinks while the guys looked around to see who was there. Kev was behind the bar but knocking back beers at the same time. Carl and Lip had set up in a booth and Liam was there, sipping soda and playing on his iPad. Ian grinned when he saw Jake, Mark and Leon from work playing pool. He waved when they saw him smiling and he signalled that he’d be over in a minute. Tommy and Kermit were at the bar, as always, and Ian excitedly led Mickey over. 

“Mick, this is Kermit and this is Tommy. These guys have been buying me drinks here since I was twelve years old.”

Tommy smirked at Mickey, who was looking anywhere but the large man in his standard plaid shirt. “We’ve met. Hey Mickey.”

“Hey.” Mickey exhaled and Ian frowned beside him. 

“When did you meet these guys?”

“When he was here a while back, chasing Frank down and choking the life outta him.” Kermit laughed joyfully. “What a day.”

Ian’s eyes bugged out of his head and he slapped Mickey on the shoulder. “When the fuck were you gonna tell me about that huh?”

“Wasn’t.” Mickey shrugged, unrepentant. “Not wasting any time talking about that fuckhead.”

“You coulda got arrested!” Ian snarled. “You ever think of that?”

Mickey stood tall on the matter. “I did and I decided it would be worth it.”

“Unbelievable.” Ian huffed and stomped off to greet his work friends. 

Carl sidled up to Mickey and shook his head. “So...30 seconds in and you’ve already pissed each other off. A joint bachelor party...good idea or should I flush my own head down the toilet?”

Mickey chuckled and slung his arm around Carl’s neck. “Good idea. S’not your fault I’m marrying a drama princess.”

“Liam told me what Frank did.” Carl sighed. “Sorry you had to see it.”

“Not like my dad is winning any prizes. Unless Asshole of the Year gets an award these days.” Mickey shrugged. “I just get so mad when it’s Ian. The red mist comes down, ya know? He’s too nice to hurt like that.”

Carl nodded. “I know. Frank is a fucked up addict who sees Monica every time he looks at Ian. It’s not the betrayal thing that bothers Frank. Not really. It would make more sense that way. But no. It’s how much Ian looks like our mom that triggers him. Hitting him is the closest he can get to lashing out at her.”

Mickey sucked in a loud breath. “That’s fucked up.”

“That’s Frank.” Carl said with resignation. “Too stupid to understand that he’s picking on the one of us who is guaranteed to put him on his ass.”

“He’s hurt him for the last time. I’ll kill him myself if he even thinks about hurting him again.” Mickey said with venom and Carl chuckled. 

“Come on, let’s go say hi to Ian’s crew.”

Ian sat back with a huge grin on his face and watched as Mickey hustled his colleagues at pool. Lip sat down beside him and Kev set three beers down on the bar for them. 

“Fuck being an office manager. Why haven’t you got your boy on the professional hustling circuit?” Lip grinned and tapped his beer against Ian’s. 

“He’s good.” Kev agreed. “I’ve seen guys leave here with hundreds in their pockets playing half as good as that.”

“A man of many, many talents.” Ian wiggled his brows and took a drink of beer. He rarely drank at all these days so he knew his tolerance would be shot to shit, but if you couldn’t get shitfaced at your bachelor party when could you?

Kev roared with laughter and slapped Ian on the back so he jolted in his seat. “So good to see you like this, man. Honestly.”

“Thanks Kev.” Ian smiled sincerely. 

Kev wandered off to serve someone and Lip leaned his face closer to Ian. 

“You know I gotta ask right?”

“Ask what?” Ian’s smile was fixed and his cheeks were rosy. 

“No cold feet? Still 100% sure this is what you want?” Lip tried to look serious but his brother looked so dopey it was ruining his vibe. 

“Lip, thank you for asking. It means a lot to me. Really.” Ian cupped Lip’s cheek in his large hand and smiled dreamily. “But if it’s possible to be any happier than this I think I might explode.”

“That feeling won’t last forever Ian.” Lip warned patiently. 

“It will. Because even when he pisses me off and I wanna smack the smug grin off his face I still love him and want to be with him.” Ian replied with a smile that lit up his face. 

Lip smiled back and nodded. “Okay. My brotherly duties here are done.”

“Thank you. I gotta mingle.” Ian planted a sloppy kiss on Lip’s forehead and headed straight for Mickey, grabbing him up around the middle and kissing him. Applause and cheers rang out in the bar and Mickey’s face blushed adorably. 

Mickey was pleasantly buzzed after his one beer and sat at a table talking to Liam about the best seat on the train to avoid gangs looking for violent entertainment and homeless people begging for money. The youngster’s eyes were wide as he took in every word. Mickey was about to get into the best everyday objects to carry about your person that can be used for protection without looking like weapons when the door the bar burst open and a cop walked in. He headed straight to the bar with an ungodly scowl on his face. Mickey watched him talk to Kev before glaring around the bar and fixing his eyes on Mickey’s table. 

“Fuck.” Mickey hissed. “Run for it kiddo.”

Liam was sweating bricks and terrified of being caught underage in a bar and ending up in a precinct with a cell full of junkies. 

“Officer Longman.” The cop snarled when he reached them and his eyes bored into Liam’s. “How old are you?”

“Run.” Mickey hissed and Liam was out of his seat like a shot, sprinting for the exit without sparing a look over his shoulder. 

The crowd had started to gather around the table and Mickey was twitching nervously. 

“You Mickey?” The cop folded his arms across his broad chest. 

“Uh...yeah...”

A slow smile curved on the lips of the cop. “Good. Then I’ve found my man.”

Before Mickey could click to what was going on, music started blaring from behind the bar and the people gathered around started to whoop and cheer. Mickey caught Ian’s eye and his mouth fell open when he saw the redhead almost crying with laughter as he cheered loudly. 

“Officer Longman.” Mickey groaned. “How fuckin dumb am I?”

The “cop” chuckled and turned Mickey in his seat so he was facing the crowd. “Now if you sit still and let me do my job, I’ll go easy on you. If you writhe around, I’m gonna have to go hard on you. Got it?”

Mickey’s face was warm enough to heat a room in winter but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Got it.” He grinned cheekily and sat back, ready to enjoy whatever was about to happen. If this guy was anything like the guys he used to sneak into the Fairy Tale to watch then he was in for a treat. “Carl Gallagher, you’re a dead man.”

Carl whooped with laughter from behind Mickey’s phone where he was filming the whole thing. “You love me really, Mick.”

The music sped up to a pumping bass-filled dance track and Mickey’s lap was filled with a six foot blond who was straddling him and starting to unbutton his shirt. 

“Help a guy out huh.” He grinned at Mickey, who blushed harder but used his shaky hands to unbutton the rest of the shirt. 

“Take it off.” 

Mickey slipped his hands over the stripper’s chest to his shoulders and pushed the blue fabric down his arms. When his full torso was revealed the baying crowd cheered again and Mickey searched for Ian in the group. When he found him Ian winked and blew him a kiss. 

“Like what you see?”

Mickey’s attention went back to the stripper. “Uh...I mean, you’re no Mark Wahlberg...”

The guy laughed musically and grabbed Mickey’s hands, placing them on his pecs as he made them dance. With Mickey’s hands on his chest, the stripper started to roll his hips and grind down on Mickey. The movement was sultry and in perfect time with the music. 

“My pants are a little tight...feels like I’m gonna bust right outta them...” The guy’s voice was low and sexy as he reached for his zipper. 

“Preach.” Mickey mumbled under his breath and made the dancer laugh again. 

“Let me get more comfortable and I’ll be right back.” Officer Longman stood up so his crotch was directly in Mickey’s face and slowly, so fucking slowly, popped his button and pulled down his zipper. Mickey tried to find Ian’s eyes again but his view was blocked by what looked like an anaconda stuffed into a pair of black Calvin Kleins. 

“Jesus. You got socks down there?” Mickey blurted out. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The dancer winked and shimmied his hips so his tight black trousers fell down to his thighs. He did a slow twirl so his ass was in Mickey’s face when he bent at the waist to remove his trousers. With a sexy shake he turned back to face Mickey wearing only his underwear. This time Mickey could see his fiancé standing directly in his eye line, eyebrows dancing on his forehead where he’d obviously clocked Officer Longman’s long man. Ian’s grin was wicked and he mouthed “wow” to Mickey, who responded with a cheesy grin. 

“Eyes on me, gorgeous. You got your whole life to look at him.” The mostly naked man drew Mickey’s attention back to him with a warm hand on his jaw. Again, in perfect synchronicity with the music, he danced in Mickey’s lap with rolling hips and slight downward pressure. It was teasing. It was tantalising. But it wasn’t Ian and so Mickey’s body seemed to reject the idea that he was meant to be getting hard right now. Maybe there was such a thing as mind over matter. Or mind over biology in this case. The guy placed Mickey’s hands on his ass and urged him to squeeze, which Mickey did, much to the delight of the crowd. Grabbing a hot guy’s ass in the middle of a bar wasn’t the way he thought his night would go, but Mickey was nothing if not adaptable. 

“Wanna see my nightstick?” The dancer grinned down at Mickey, who snorted loudly. Perhaps Ian _wasn’t_ the lamest motherfucker on the planet. 

“Oh please god tell me you have better lines than that in real life.” Mickey giggled, his head lolling forward to rest on the guy’s chest. 

The stripper laughed softly and nudged Mickey in the chest. “Stop making me laugh and dissing my script.”

“Sorry. Yes Officer, I would love to see your nightstick.” Mickey smirked. 

The dancer lifted himself up and turned so he was sitting on Mickey’s crotch and reaching behind him to grip Mickey’s hair. More hip rolling and crotch grinding ensued, all the while Ian was staring at them and licking his bottom lip. The dancer took one of Mickey’s hands and placed it on his stomach. Mickey could feel the abs contracting under his touch. The guy moved his hand down until their joined fingers were dipping below the waistband of the Calvins and Mickey could feel soft, wiry pubes. A second later his hand was out and the dancer had whirled back to face him, jiggling his junk at Mickey. 

“Take em off.”

Mickey’s eyes bulged. “Off?”

“Yup. Are you resisting?” 

Mickey shrugged. “Alright. But just so you know I’m used to dealing with a solid nine inches. Anything less and I’m gonna be disappointed.”

The stripper tipped his head back and laughed. “Actually, better leave them on.”

“Oh no. The challenge has been set.” Mickey tugged on the waistband gently and they peeled down his hips, revealing the blond pubes Mickey had already felt. 

“Carpet matches the drapes.” Mickey noted. 

The gathered crowd jeered and whistled as the stripper’s peachy butt was revealed to them, but Mickey had the best view. Semi-erect and bouncing wildly, Mickey had a tough time working out dimensions but it was safe to say it didn’t quite make nine inches. He certainly wasn’t a slouch in the trousersnake department though and Mickey felt his face warm again. If Mickey didn’t know that Ian Gallagher and his perfect cock existed in the world this might actually be top of his wank bank material list now. It only lasted a brief moment and then the music came to a dramatic stop, just as the dancer snapped his pants back into place. The whole bar cheered wildly and filled the air with cat calls and whistles. The stripper stepped back from Mickey and gathered up his discarded clothing. 

“That was the most entertaining lap dance I’ve ever done.” He smiled warmly at Mickey and held out his hand. “Jesse, by the way.”

Mickey shook his hand. “That was the most entertaining lap dance I’ve ever received.”

Just then Ian appeared, grinning widely and looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “Hey! That was so good!”

“Thank you.” Jesse smiled. “I thought I was gonna lose it at one point. Don’t usually get as much heckling.”

“Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous.” Mickey admitted with a laugh. 

“No worries. Entertaining as fuck. I’m gonna get dressed and then grab a drink at the bar.” Jesse winked and headed to the restroom. 

Ian grabbed Mickey and kissed him briefly and firmly. “Can we go home now? That’s got me totally hot.”

“It’s still early. I’m ready for another beer.” Mickey kissed him again teasingly. “Then you can take me home.”

An hour later and the whole bar was feeling the buzz of alcohol. Even Kev looked a little tipsy, which given his size and the weight of his responsibility for running the bar was quite impressive. Ian was at the bar with Jesse, chatting about god knows what but Mickey was happy to see that Ian held no bad feeling about the guy spreading himself all over Mickey like butter on hot toast. Carl dropped into the booth and nudged Mickey’s shoulder. 

“You okay?”

“Awesome. You’ve pulled off a good night. Thanks.” Mickey tipped his low alcohol beer to Carl. 

“Any time.” The younger man replied easily and tapped Mickey’s phone. “Let me see the photos I took.”

Mickey unlocked his phone and passed it to Carl, who guffawed loudly at his photographic masterpieces. Mickey realized he’d scrolled too far back when Carl snorted and laughed harder. 

“Oh whoa! You take dick pics? You’re packing some heat, bro!” 

Mickey casually glanced at the screen. “That’s your brother’s dick, dumbass.”

“Eew!” Carl shrieked and the phone skittered across the table until Mickey caught it and safely locked it. 

“Serves you right for scrolling too far.”

“You could at least save them in a separate folder!” Carl shuddered. “I need to bleach my brain.”

“Oh get over it. You shared at room with the guy for twenty years. Surely you saw his dick a few times!”

Carl rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, of course. But I’ve never seen it like _that_.”

“Ah yes. The angle of the dangle makes all the difference.” Mickey teased and ruffled Carl’s hair. “Don’t sweat it man.”

Carl leaned back in his seat as the effects of alcohol starting to take their toll. “You’ve really had a good time?”

“Of course I have.”

“I wanted to make it good for you. Means a lot to me, y’know? Being your best man.” 

“Means a lot to me that you agreed.” Mickey was honest in his almost-sobriety. 

“Whatever you need. Whenever you need it. I’ve got you. Okay?” Carl held out his fist and Mickey bumped it. 

“Same goes.” The older man replied. “Okay. I’m gonna get your brother’s drunken ass home before he orders another drink.”

Ian was tipsy but not too drunk when Mickey scooped him up to head home. 

“Jesse is gonna drive us home. It’s on his way.” Ian smiled dreamily at his fiancé. 

“You sure?”

“Of course. I gotta leave now though, told my wife I’d be home by midnight.” Jesse grinned. 

“Wife?” Mickey smirked. “She okay with you waving your wang in other guys faces?”

“She’s fine with it. Definitely prefers it to me waving my wang in women’s faces.”

“Can’t say I disagree.” Mickey chuckled. “I’m ready when you are, Red.”

After a rapid round of thanks and goodbyes they were clambering into Jesse’s ancient Honda and heading home. 

“You know how bad this looks, right?” Mickey asked when they were almost home. 

“What?” Ian asked. 

“We just left the bar together with a stripper.” Mickey burst into hysterical laughter. 

Jesse giggled and pulled up outside their apartment. “Well, when you’re telling the tale tomorrow remember to add a couple of inches for me, right?”

Mickey climbed out of the car and saluted Jesse. “Will do. Thanks Jesse.”

“No worries. Good luck with the wedding, guys.” He waved and drove off, leaving Ian and Mickey to stumble into their home with their arms wrapped around each other tightly. 

“He seems nice.” Ian murmured genuinely and Mickey found he couldn’t stop giggling uncontrollably at the absurdity of it all. 

“Yeah. He does.”


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day is here and what a day it is.

“I wanna try something.” Ian kissed Mickey behind the ear like he knew he loved. It was the morning after their bachelor party and even though they’d only had a total of five beers between them they were feeling a little worse for wear. 

“Hmm...I like the sound of that.” Mickey stretched and pressed himself further into Ian’s arms. 

“Give it a second.” Ian joked and then blurted out his idea. “I don’t wanna have sex again until our wedding night.”

Mickey’s head whipped around and he looked at Ian like he was crazy. “The fuck?”

Ian’s hand slid down Mickey’s side to rest on his hip and he squeezed gently. “Think about it. Think how amazing it will be when we are married and I touch you again.”

“Are you out of your mind? Are you forgetting the first half a year when we had sex like 2 times? You wanna go back to that?” Mickey was stunned. 

“No. I wanna build up the tension and have a night to remember.” Ian smiled back at him serenely. 

“You’re insane. Batshit fuckin crazy.” Mickey shook his head in disbelief. 

“Come on, Mick. It’s only three weeks. It will be amazing.”

“It will be shit and you know it. In fact, you won’t even last a week.” Mickey taunted. 

“Wanna bet?” The redhead retorted. 

“No. I wanna fuck.” 

“Well too bad. I’m sticking to it.”

Mickey laughed heartily as he rolled out of bed and waltzed to the door in all his naked glory. “Good luck with that. I make no such promises.”

Ian sat bolt upright in alarm. “Mick, what the fuck? You can’t mean you’re gonna...with someone else? What?”

Mickey’s laughter became slightly maniacal before it was drowned out by the spray of the shower water. 

Brad showed up to work with a breakfast roll and a coffee for him and Mickey. 

“Thanks.” Mickey ate ravenously. “Didn’t have a chance to eat this morning.”

“Just preparing your for the shitstorm we’re about to face.” Brad grinned. “Inventory.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Relax. That shit doesn’t scare me. I got bigger problems. My other half told me this morning we ain’t gonna be getting it on until our wedding night. Can you believe that shit?”

Brad laughed cheerfully. “Interesting concept.”

“He’s full of shit. Anyway, I already started on a new storage system out back that will make inventory easier. I’m eventually gonna have the cashier system updated so it automatically triggers an order when certain things drop below a level. There’s no way I’m gonna be counting every nut and bolt by hand every three months.”

Brad stared at him. “Huh. Lip was right.”

“About what?” Mickey gulped down some coffee with narrowed eyes. 

“That I wouldn’t regret hiring you.” 

Mickey blushed slightly. “Give it time.”

“I know what you’re doing.” 

Mickey continued his journey from the bedroom to the kitchen without responding to Ian’s accusation. The redhead huffed loudly and turned the tv off with a pointed stab on the remote control. 

“This is criminal!” Ian hollered, trying not to look when Mickey walked back into room with a bottle of water but unable to stop himself. Who was he kidding? Mickey Milkovich was walking around the apartment absolutely butt naked. There was no way on any planet in any universe that Ian was looking elsewhere. He gazed in reverence when Mickey tipped his head back and gulped down half the bottle in one go. A droplet escaped and ran down his chin, then his throat and onto his smooth, firm chest before finally coming to rest above his belly button. It took all his strength not to go over there and lick it back up Mickey’s body and into his mouth. Ian’s dreamy sigh was extremely audible in the silent room and Mickey grinned brightly. 

“You good there Gallagher?”

“Fine.” Ian replied through gritted teeth. 

“Sure?”

“Yep.” Ian popped the p on the end of the word. 

“Cool. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.” Mickey sauntered off and Ian heard him flop down on their bed without closing the door. Ian closed his eyes in distress, his mind racing with wonder at what Mickey was playing at. It became clear a moment later when the sounds of very enthusiastic sex came from the bedroom. Ian’s eyes widened and he leapt from the sofa, storming to the bedroom. 

“You cannot seriously be watching porn right now!” He yelled angrily.

Mickey tore his transfixed eyes away from the iPad screen and gazed owlishly at Ian. “Hmm? You say something?”

The slapping skin on skin noises got louder and was accompanied by grunts and groans. 

“What fresh hell is this?” Ian snarled. 

“Gotta get my kicks somewhere, Red. You’re not putting out but Pornhub always does.” Mickey grinned cheekily. 

“You couldn’t wait until I was at work?”

Mickey looked unrepentant as he shrugged. “Coulda, but I’m horny now.”

“You’re always horny!” Ian snapped. 

“I know.” Mickey giggled. “It’s almost like I’m a healthy 26 year old gay man, right?”

Ian glared viciously at his fiancé. “You are the world’s biggest ass right now.”

Mickey clicked his tongue. “You mind? You’re kinda ruining my vibe. Feel free to join me, otherwise cut the commentary. It messes with my flow.”

Ian backed out of the room with both middle fingers raised in angry protest. He slammed the front door shut and a minute later was storming into the Gallagher kitchen. 

“Fuckin...fucker!” He vented with a kick to the bottom step. 

Carl came down the stairs with a towel wrapped around his waist and wet hair dripping all over the floor. “Problem?”

“Mickey. He’s the most annoying fucker ever to roam the earth!” Ian hissed, his anger bubbling under the surface of his skin. 

“What’s up? Where is he?”

“He’s at home, walking around naked and jerking off to Pornhub.” 

Carl did a double take. “What the fuck are you doing here then?”

“I told him I didn’t wanna have sex with him until after we’re married.”

Carl looked at him with the same look of disbelief as Mickey did when he first suggested the idea to him. “ _Why_?”

“Thought it seemed like a nice, romantic idea.”

Carl shook his head in dismay. “You have sex on tap and you’re turning it down? How are we even related?”

“You think I’m crazy?” Ian exhaled slowly. 

“Nope. I _know_ you’re crazy. Why withhold something that makes you happy? Life’s too fuckin short, man.” 

“Fuck!” Ian groaned. “You’re right.”

Carl pointed to the door. “So go get some.”

Ian ran like a bat out of hell across the road to his apartment. 

When he burst inside he found Mickey in the living room, fully clothed sitting on the couch watching tv. 

“You’re finished already?” Ian gasped deeply for breath after his sprint, sounding bitterly disappointed. 

Mickey blush spread quickly up his face. “Nah. S’not really my thing.”

“Watching two hot guys bang their brains out is not your thing?” Ian flopped onto the couch beside him. “Am I in the right house?”

“Nah man...it’s just not the same on my own.” Mickey shrugged and rubbed at his bottom lip. 

Ian smiled broadly and grabbed Mickey by the wrist. The older man gave a cry of surprise but before he knew it he was being lifted in the air and a second later was tossed onto the bed. Ian crawled over his body and kissed him deeply. 

“Next time I have an idea as stupid as that, feel free to shoot me. Longest three days of my life.”

“Understood.” Mickey cupped Ian’s neck and dragged him back into a kiss. 

Olivia was waiting for them at the top of the stone steps when Ian drove into the parking space outside the Rose Garden. The crunching gravel was now a familiar and comforting noise that made both Ian and Mickey feel relaxed. It hadn’t snowed for a few days and the cold air made everything feel clean and fresh. 

“Good morning gentlemen. Welcome back.” Olivia’s accent was back to her professional best as she greeted them warmly. She was dressed in the standard colors of the hotel, royal blue and imperial red, but instead of her usual power suit with heels she wore a more comfortable jersey dress and flat shoes. There was no way to hide her pregnancy now. Her large, perfectly formed bump protruded and gave somewhere for her to rest her hands. 

Mickey bounced up the steps and embraced her carefully. “You look beautiful.”

She pecked his cheeks. “Thank you. He’s having a particularly gymnastic day so ignore me if I look like I’ve sucked on a lemon.”

Ian chuckled as he joined them and greeted her with a hug and a kiss. “Hey Olivia.”

“Good trip?”

“Perfect. Come on, it’s freezing out here.” Ian led them inside the lobby. 

“Helps with my tropical moments.” Olivia smiled and fanned herself. 

“You having night sweats too?” Ian tilted his head and gazed at her appraisingly. 

“Oh yes. Constantly. My doctor said it’s fluctuating hormones.”

Ian nodded and smiled in reassurance. “Keep an eye on it. It could be your thyroid.”

Olivia fanned herself again. “I will. Thanks. So, when will the family be arriving...”

They chatted and caught Olivia up on the plans until the end of her shift, when she left them in the spa with complimentary mocktails and fresh fruit. 

“See you in the morning for your big day. I can’t wait!” She kissed each of them excitedly. “Enjoy your last night as single men. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Mickey smirked and pointed to her bump. “Doesn’t leave much huh.”

Olivia giggled. “Nope! Enjoy.”

“Thanks Olivia. See you tomorrow.”

When they were alone Ian pulled Mickey’s lounger closer so they were alongside each other and held his hand. 

“No regrets?” Mickey murmured, smiling shyly. 

“Not a chance.” Ian grinned back. “Wanna get in the pool?”

“Is it deep?”

“Deeper than 5’7?” Ian teased. 

“Okay, laugh it up Lanky Larry. Let’s go.”

They got into the heated pool and Ian immediately recognized from Mickey’s attempts to move around that he had no idea how to swim. Water sprayed in the air and all over the poolside. 

“Hey, Michael Phelps. You gonna leave some water in the pool for the rest of us?” Ian joked. 

Mickey scowled and splashed Ian with a torrent of water. “Fuck you.”

Ian edged closer until and reached Mickey and steadied him with hands on his hips. “You never learned?”

Mickey sighed heavily, his bravado dropping away now Ian was holding him close and keeping him safe. “What do you think?”

Ian pressed his lips to Mickey’s temple. “It’s never too late. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Mickey shoved at Ian’s chest. “Just drag me around with you and let me grope you under the water and all will be fine.”

Ian giggled merrily and shook his head. “It’s easy. Come on.”

An hour later Mickey had grasped the basics and his efforts were positively dolphin-like compared to when he first got in the pool. 

“Awesome! Well done babe.”

Mickey arched his eyebrow menacingly and made Ian laugh. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get dinner.”

“Steak?”

“You know it.” Mickey grinned. 

“One more time. Before I’m a married man.” Ian bit down on Mickey’s earlobe when they were back in their room after dinner, one hunger sated but not the other. 

“One more? Oh no. We are totally fucking tomorrow morning.” Mickey snorted. “I need some stress relief if I’m dealing with a bunch of feral Gallaghers all day.”

Ian laughed and flipped Mickey onto his stomach so he could kiss his way down his spine and then sink his teeth into Mickey’s perfect fleshy ass cheeks. “I can arrange that.”

“Still no regrets?” Mickey’s voice was small and tinged with anxiety. 

Ian responded by pushing Mickey’s legs apart and laying down on top of him, his erection nestled against the spot he’d just finished biting. 

“None. And I never will. I promise.”

Mickey exhaled shallowly and nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay you believe me or okay I can fuck you?” Ian checked, peppering Mickey’s hairline at the back of his neck with kisses. 

“Both.”

So he did. 

Olivia had to drag them out of bed by knocking like a loon at their door at 9:30. 

“Sorry.” Ian yawned widely when he pulled open the door. “Overslept.”

Olivia grinned at his hair pointing in every direction and the patterns of little bruises along his collarbone. “Good night?”

“Oh...you know...” He smirked sleepily and tugged at his hair. 

“You do know you’re naked, right?” Her eyes danced with mischief. 

“Oh fuck. Yeah. Sorry. Gimme a minute.”

Olivia held up her hands. “Don’t mind me. This is the most action I’ve had in eight months.”

Ian dashed away and returned wearing boxers that were far too tight and clearly Mickey’s. 

“I thought you’d like to know. Your first guests are starting to arrive. A Miss and Mr Milkovich are in the lobby.”

Ian’s smile brightened when he thought of Mandy but then quickly turned to a confused twist. “Hold up. _Mr_ Milkovich?”

Olivia frowned and nodded. “Yes. They checked in together. Is that a problem?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Ian scratched his head, bewildered. 

Mickey approached behind Ian dressed in boxers that were too large for him. “Hey Olivia. What’s up?”

“Mick, who did you invite?”

“Here? Mandy. Why?” Mickey frowned back at him. 

“Any idea who Mr Milkovich could be? They turned up together.”

Mickey shrugged, unconcerned. “I dunno. Probably her latest deadbeat romance. Just used her name instead. Most likely got a warrant out in his own name.”

Ian snorted. “Awesome.”

Olivia smiled. “They’re downstairs waiting for you. I’ll ask Henry to prepare some breakfast in the drawing room.”

“All that sounds way less fancy in Arkanspeak.” Mickey teased with his tongue between his teeth. 

When Olivia left them to get dressed Ian rounded on Mickey. 

“You don’t think it’s Terry, do you?”

Mickey snorted. “No. Mandy has a restraining order out on him. He’s not allowed within 500 meters of her. She’s not likely to bring him as the plus one we didn’t fuckin give her, is she?”

“She has a...what the fuck...you know what? Doesn’t matter.” He held up his hands in defeat. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Me too.”

“Oh no. You get in there with me and we’re gonna be late for the ceremony never mind breakfast.” Ian argued and stalked off to the bathroom. Mickey followed, stripping as he did until he was naked and pressed up against the glass door to the shower cubicle. Ian laughed from inside and opened the door. 

“Get in here.” He pulled Mickey under the spray. “Your junk looks gross pushed up against the glass.”

“My junk _never_ looks gross. Take that back!” Mickey huffed and pinched Ian’s ass. 

“Ho-ly fuck.” Mickey stopped dead in his tracks and exhaled so low it was almost a whistle. 

“What?” Ian placed his hand on Mickey’s shoulder and felt him tremble. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Um...come on. Come meet my brother.”

Ian didn’t have time to speak because Mickey was already heading towards the fancy sofas in the waiting area. Mandy spotted them and squealed in delight. She hugged Mickey tightly and he held her just as close. 

“You made it.” He beamed. 

“Course I did, fuckhead.”

Mickey cast an appeasing eye over her. “You look...so beautiful.”

And she did. Her forest green dress was fitted and clinging to her curves, black suede boots added an extra few inches to her height and she wore her hair in a messy top knot with loose tendrils framing her face. Her trademark kohl eyes finished the devastating look. 

“Ian!” She shoved Mickey aside and leapt on the tall redhead. 

“Looking fierce, Mandy!” Ian kissed her cheek. 

“Thanks.”

All of this was happening while the other guest was hovering nearby. Mickey gave him a tiny smile. 

“The fuck you doing here, Ig?”

The other man smiled back shyly. “Mandy asked me if I wanted to crash a wedding. When you ever seen me turn down free booze?”

“I ain’t seen you in how many fuckin years and you just walk in here like it was last week?”

The tension crackled in the air until Mickey barked a laugh. “Come here.”

He embraced his brother for a long moment, pulling back to gaze at him hard. “Where the fuck you been?”

“Here and there. Mostly prison, actually.” 

“Jesus. Come over here, I want you to meet someone. Then we’ll eat and you can catch me up on your sorry ass life story.”

Ian gave a guarded smile when Mickey brought his brother to him. 

“This is Ian. My fiancé. For a few more hours at least. Gallagher, this is my least shitty brother Iggy.”

Iggy choked on his laugh at Mickey’s greeting. “That’s kinda like choosing your favorite tornado but sure. Nice to meet you Ian.”

“You too.” Ian nodded. 

They made it to the drawing room and were led to a table where all sorts of breakfast items were laid out for them. Iggy and Mandy shared a whistle before Mickey rolled his eyes. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Didn’t say anything!” Mandy grinned. 

“You didn’t have to. I know what you’re thinking. Yes it’s fancy but these are nice people and you’re not gonna steal the cutlery, okay?”

“I’m mortified you think that’s what had even crossed my mind.” Mandy smirked before leaning over on her elbows. “Of course we’re not gonna steal from this place.”

“Thrilled to hear it, ma’am. Tea or coffee?” Henry drawled, his stealthy approach silent on the thick carpet. 

Mandy jumped in her seat in shock. “Oh! Uh...coffee please.”

“Very good, ma’am. And for you, sir?” He addressed Iggy, pouring coffee for Mandy. 

“I’m gonna give this tea thing a try. Never had it before.” He smiled like an excited child. 

Henry cocked an eyebrow as he poured tea from a china pot for Iggy and smiled softly when Iggy thanked him. “Have a good morning.”

“You’ve never had tea before?” Mickey laughed when Henry left them alone. 

“Nope.”

Mandy snorted her disdain. “Really saying something when you’ve tried every recreational drug known to mankind but you’ve never had a cup of tea.”

Iggy gazed at Mickey when Ian took a little box out of his pocket and slid it across the table to his brother. He’d seen boxes like that before and usually it meant someone was about to cut a line and get fucked up. 

“Holy shit did you just stab yourself in the stomach?” Iggy hissed a moment later. 

The blush crept up Mickey’s face and he glared at Iggy. He was about to snap at him when Mandy cut in and tapped Iggy on the back of his head. 

“He’s diabetic, dumb fuck. He’s gotta inject insulin. Remember?”

Iggy’s mouth fell open. “But you said he got the new kidney...”

Mickey hung his head and groaned, while Ian tried to contain his startled laughter. 

“I did get a new kidney. But that doesn’t take away the diabetes. Stuck with that for life.” 

Iggy looked thoroughly confused and Ian took a small amount of pity on him. “The diabetes caused the damage to his kidneys by not being treated properly. Once the kidneys get damaged, there’s no going back from that. He’s always gonna be diabetic but now that it’s managed and under control it won’t attack his new kidney.”

Iggy tilted his head. “You sound like a doctor.”

“Paramedic.” Mickey replied, pride evident in his voice. 

“Cool. So what do you do these days Mick?”

Mickey shook his head. “How about you tell us where the fuck you’ve been for the better part of a decade huh? Then maybe I’ll catch you up on what you’ve missed here.”

Iggy sighed and sipped his tea, twisting his face in disgust. “Eew!”

Mandy looked to the sky like she needed a rescue and leaned over Iggy to pour milk into his drink and stir it up. Iggy took another hesitant sip and a huge smile broke out on his face. “Nice.”

Ian coughed and got Iggy back on track. “Uh yeah, so, prison. Basically, prison.”

“What the fuck for?” Mickey narrowed his eyes. 

“Well after Dad split and we all got moved around I ended up working for Sam Finch. Just deliveries mainly, a bit of security when needed.”

“You worked for The Pinch?”

Iggy shrugged. “He was paying. What did you want me to do, starve?”

“So what did he have you do? Have you kill someone?” Mickey muttered. 

“Nah. I took the rap for him a few times for drug busts and assault charges and he paid me the big bucks.” Iggy shrugged again like it was nothing. 

“Oh my God.” Mickey rubbed his hand over his face. “You always were dumb as rocks.”

Iggy smiled happily. “Last few years I’ve been out, cleaning up my act. Lived in Detroit for a while, met a girl, had a baby and now we’re back in Chicago.”

“You have a baby.” Mickey was stunned. 

“Yeah. She’s not really a baby anymore though. She’s almost four. Swear to god she’s got Mandy’s attitude and your brains.” Iggy joked. 

“I have a niece.” Mickey seemed completely floored by that bit of information. 

“Uh huh.” Iggy confirmed. “Aurora Grace. Don’t fuckin ask. Her mother picked it. I call her Rory for short.”

Ian burst into soft laughter. “I love that.”

“Thanks.” Iggy smiled. “So what’s the deal with you guys?”

Mickey and Ian shared a look and a grin before Mickey replied to his brother. “Long story short, this is my person.”

“Your person? What the fuck does that mean?” Iggy looked at Mandy for clarification. 

“It’s his person.” She repeated. “You know, soulmate...one true love...only one in the world.”

“Oh!” Iggy mouthed. 

“I’ll catch you up on the rest later.” Mickey waved his hand. “We gotta get ready for the wedding.”

“My baby brother. Getting hitched.” Iggy beamed with joy. 

“Are you high?” Mandy asked what everyone was thinking. 

Iggy laughed and shook his head. “High on life these days.”

Lip opened the hotel room door to Olivia half an hour before the ceremony was due to start. Carl was sprawled on the bed playing on his phone while Ian helped Mickey with his collar next to the balcony doors. 

“Hey Olivia.” Carl greeted warmly and made space for her. 

“Hello Carl. You’re creasing your shirt.” She said as she perched on the edge of the bed and wincing while she smiled. Ian had his back to them but he caught the pained expression in the mirror. 

“You okay?” He asked, tilting his head to look her over. 

“Fine. Sore ankles, back pain and acid reflux. All the good stuff.” She smiled tightly. 

“Ouch.” Lip shuddered. 

“You need any pain relief?” He offered. “I have my medical kit.”

“No, honestly, I’ll be fine.” She waved him off. “You both look fabulous.”

Mickey stared at himself in the full length mirror. “I don’t look like me.”

His black suit was cut perfectly to his shape and the blue pocket square matched his eyes like they were cut from the same cloth. He had decided on a thin blue tie to match the square and grinned as he ran his hand down his front, happy with the choice. Ian had opted for a bow tie in a dark green color that almost matched Mandy’s dress to go with his black suit. They were a fucking power couple to be reckoned with. Ian moved behind Mickey and whispered something in his ear that nobody else in room could hear but none of them could miss the shy, beautiful smile that crept over Mickey’s face. Ian kissed under his ear and stepped away, turning to address the room. 

“We’re ready.” 

Tradition hadn’t exactly been thrown out of the window but it had certainly been mixed up a bit. Neither man wanted to walk down the aisle while the other waited for them so after discussing options with Olivia in the planning stages they agreed on walking down the aisle together. Carl and Lip waited at the front for them and, when the music started up, the gathered congregation turned to gaze at them as they walked hand in hand to meet their best men. At their special request, Olivia walked behind them and scattered rose petals with a smile that told everyone she was utterly delighted to be included in the service. The guest list wasn’t huge but the venue lent itself best to a smaller, intimate thing so it felt like the perfect size. Ian met Lip and embraced his brother while Carl did the same to Mickey. 

“You got this.” Carl whispered in the ear of the trembling man. 

The officiant cleared her throat and brought the service together. When the official script was done she handed over to Ian to say his vows. 

“This feels like a dream. Not just today but the last year of my life. It’s been the best dream. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you and I hope I make you as happy as you make me.”

Mickey smiled and blushed, looking up at Ian through his dark lashes. “ _You do_.” He mouthed and Ian’s face lit up in a huge grin. 

“Mikhailo.” The officiant passed over to him. 

Mickey coughed and lowered his gaze to their joined hands. “I don’t even know how to put into words how I feel. The way you make me feel. It’s more than I ever thought I deserved. I’m not great talking about feelings. Never have been. But you make me want to try. Love you, Gallagher.”

Ian waited for Mickey to look back up at him and rewarded him with a beaming smile as he mouthed back at him. “ _Love you too._ ”

“Do you, Ian Clayton Gallagher, take Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich to be your husband?”

“I do.” Ian’s eyes shone with tears. 

“And do you, Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich take Ian Clayton Gallagher to be your husband?”

Mickey licked his lips nervously and nodded once. “I do.”

The small gathering cheered uproariously when she uttered the words that sealed the deal and Ian pulled Mickey into a deep, loving kiss. 

“No regrets.” Ian whispered when he moved an inch away from Mickey’s lips. 

“No regrets.” Mickey smiled. 

Following the theme of the hotel, the meal and speeches were very much the English way. After a meal of roast chicken and winter vegetables the guests were asked to give their attention to the best men for their toasts. Lip went first and rose to his feet, looking around at the familiar faces in the room. 

“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m the intelligent and handsome Gallagher brother Lip. I’m 27, single with some mommy issues and I like cold beers and warm hugs. If that sounds like a catch, meet me on the dance floor later. But enough about me. We’re here to celebrate the joining of two men who mean the world to us. And so far, this joining has been a lot more sedate than their usual joinings that I’ve had the misfortune to be on the other side of their bedroom wall during. I wanna thank everyone here at the Rose Garden for putting this together for Ian and Mickey. Especially you, Olivia. You’ve been amazing and we all appreciate you more than you know.”

The room erupted in cheers and Olivia took a little bow from her spot in the corner. Lip lifted his champagne flute and took a sip. 

“I’m gonna say what we’ve all thought as least once. This wedding has come about very fast. But if the last year has told me anything it’s that these guys are just meant to be here today. Simple as that. And if the last 25 years has told me anything it’s that Ian Gallagher is the most stubborn person to walk this earth and nothing was going to get in the way of him marrying the man he loves. Mickey, my reservations about this were never about you personally. You’ve gone through a lot together and you’re solid. I know that and I appreciate what you do for Ian. So all that’s left for me to say is ‘welcome to the family’ and let’s get this party started!” Lip raised his glass in the air and the room responded with hearty cheers. Lip sat down and Ian leaned over, flopping his head onto Lip’s shoulder. 

“Love you brother.” He mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. 

Lip chuckled and squeezed the back of Ian’s neck. “Love you too.”

Carl got to his feet and Fiona helped the guests go wild by whistling through her fingers. He adjusted his suit jacket and tugged at his tie. 

“I haven’t been this dressed up since the day I went to juvie.” He observed, to the amused delight of the guests.

“I just want to add to Lip’s thanks. Olivia you’ve been the best. Couldn’t have done this without you. Literally.” More cheers and applause. “So, if you don’t know me I’m Carl Gallagher, the most honest and most good looking of the Gallagher brothers. I’m 20...21 years old, ugh do you think they heard me at the bar? Anyway, I’m here today as Mickey’s best man and I just wanna take a minute to let you all know what Mickey’s really like. I know you all see the scowl and knuckle tats and think you’ve got him figured out. You’re wrong. Mickey is my best friend. He’s the guy I go to when I need to talk about shit that I don’t talk to anyone else about. I talk to him about the girl at work that I really like who doesn’t even know I exist. He’s always there for me. Sometimes when I don’t even know I need someone. I talk to him about family stuff. Because he’s my family too. Ian is my brother and I love him, but that’s kinda already decided for us. Mickey is my brother and I love him and that’s a choice I made. I know you guys are gonna make it. Today is just sealing the deal. So can you all raise your glasses and toast the hottest new legit married couple in South Side. The first for about thirty years or whatever. To Ian and Mickey!”

“TO IAN AND MICKEY!”

Carl fist bumped Mickey when he sat down and Ian ruffled his hair. 

“Good job.” Mickey winked, his eyes shiny. 

It was snowing pretty hard when Lip headed out for a smoke a while later. The party was now in full swing and he’d last seen Ian pulling Mickey onto the dance floor in a way that left no room for argument from the older man. 

“Got a light?”

Lip glanced sideways and saw it was Mickey’s sister, Mandy, holding a cigarette to her lips. He flicked his lighter and held it out, cupping her cheek to shield it from the wind. 

“Thanks.” She inhaled sharply and blew out the smoke. “I love the snow. Everything feels so clean.”

“Yeah? Definitely prettier up here with no traffic to spoil it.” Lip agreed. 

Mandy was silent as she smoked her cigarette. Lip was almost done and he was actually contemplating lighting up another so he didn’t have to go back inside, even though his feet were turning into blocks of ice. 

“So, mommy issues huh.” Mandy smirked and broke the silence. 

Lip let out a burst of laughter. “Oh yeah.”

“With my daddy issues we’d make for an entertaining trip to a therapist.” 

“Bill Gates couldn’t afford my therapy bills.” Lip replied with a smile. 

“Guess we’ll just have to make do with drink, drugs and casual sex to make us feel better.” Mandy dropped her cigarette and stomped on it with her heel. “Catch you on the dance floor.”

Lip watched her leave with a dazed smile on his face. “Yes. Yes you will.”

Mickey didn’t want to have a first dance in front of everyone but he didn’t mind one little bit when Ian drew him to the side of the dance floor and swayed with him to a song that he vaguely remembered being popular when they were first getting together. Ian’s hands gripped his waist and held him close while Mickey buried his face in Ian’s neck. 

“So Iggy’s a character.” Ian murmured and Mickey’s laugh came out in a warm breath against his skin. “That’s one fuckin word for it.”

“You okay with it all? Him being here.” Ian asked softly. 

“Yeah. I used to be mad at him for disappearing. I don’t know if he ever knew how sick I got. Just have to leave that in the past right?” Mickey mused aloud. 

“If you can live with it, then yeah. Be nice to get to know your extended family.” Ian brushed his lips over Mickey’s temple. 

“Mmm.” Mickey hummed his agreement. “We’ve got a niece we didn’t know about.”

Ian’s heart stuttered at Mickey’s casual use of _we_ in his sentence and he squeezed his waist tenderly. “Now’s our chance.”

“Even better now the diaper stage is over.” Mickey added. “Although if she takes after Ig that might not be the case.”

Ian snorted and moved his hands up Mickey’s back to hug him as the song faded out. “This time next year we could have our own diaper issues to deal with.”

Mickey smiled serenely. “Yeah.”

“Come on, let’s get a drink. And also let’s try to ignore that I’ve just spotted Lip and Mandy sneaking into the cloakroom together.”

“What the fuck...” Mickey’s head whipped around. 

“There’s always hook ups at weddings. Don’t worry about it.” Ian pulled him by the hand to the bar. 

It was a little before ten and Mickey was chatting to Iggy while Ian danced with Mandy. Mickey’s eyes followed Ian as he moved, watching the ripple of muscles in his arms where he’d rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. Belatedly, he saw Fiona dart across to Ian with a look of panic on her face. Mickey excused himself from Iggy and joined them on the dance floor. 

“She’s gotta go to the hospital now.” Fiona urged. 

“Who?” Mickey was on high alert. 

“Olivia. She’s not looking good.” 

Everyone saw the moment Ian switched into paramedic mode and he followed Fiona to the reception area. Olivia was perched on a sofa, sweating profusely. 

“I’m fine, really. Just braxton hicks.” She waved Ian off when he dropped to his knees in front of her. 

“Cool.” Ian grinned. “Mind if I check?”

She sighed heavily. “Knock yourself out.”

“Fiona, can you head back inside and try to stop people wandering in here?” Ian asked his sister and she dashed away to oblige. 

“What can I do?” Mickey paced around them. 

“A glass of water would be good.” Ian smiled his calm smile and got back to Olivia. He checked her pulse, which was racing, and placed his hands on her bump to feel for movement. Mickey returned with a glass of water and Olivia sipped it. 

“I’m okay. You guys get back to your party.” She assured them and struggled to her feet, only for her knees to buckle under her. She grabbed for Ian and he caught her. 

“Easy.” He murmured and got to his feet. His timing was sublime as just then Olivia gasped and the spot on the floor previously occupied by Ian was now wet. 

“I’d say you’re having the baby.” Ian smiled. “Mick, call an ambulance.”

Olivia groaned loudly. “This is not how I planned it.”

“It’s just the way it’s meant to be.” Ian replied easily. “Get comfortable and ring your husband.”

While Olivia did that Mickey returned with a stony expression. “They don’t know when they can get anyone out to us. The highways are backed up with the snow.”

“Fuck.” Ian huffed. “Okay. Looks like we’re gonna be taking care of it, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Uhh what now?”

“Bring the car around to the front, grab some pillows and blankets from the room and my medical bag. We’re gonna drive her to the hospital and be back before the bar closes.” Ian grinned cheerfully. 

Olivia rubbed her forehead while Mickey went on his mission. “This is insanity. I’m ruining your wedding.”

“Shush. We wouldn’t be having a wedding without you so don’t even worry about that. How’s your pain?”

“Scale of 1 to 10? About 5.” 

“Great! That’s gonna change soon so just squeeze my hand whenever you need to.”

Mickey had to drive at a snail pace to make it safely out of the hotel grounds. Olivia was doing well and Ian was keeping an eye on things. They’d made it a few miles down the winding country road when the weather took a turn and it became a full on blizzard. 

“Take it easy, Mick.” Ian soothed when they skidded out at the back. 

“Easy for you to say.” Mickey snarked but gripped the wheel tighter and kept going. 

Olivia cried out in agony as another contraction tore through her. “Fuuuuuuck!”

Ian held out his hand and she took it. “We’re escalating fast here, Olivia. You’re already at every four minutes. Mick, how far off are we?”

“Fuck, I dunno. Not even on the main roads yet. I don’t even know where the fuckin hospital is!” Mickey snapped from the front. “Aw fuck, the road is blocked. Snow drift.”

Olivia burst into tears. “This can’t be happening.”

Mickey pulled over to the side of the road and kept the engine idling for heat. “We’re fucked.”

“Okay. Stay calm, Liv. You’re doing great. The good news is, your vitals are strong. The bad news, I’m gonna have to deliver your baby.” Ian said gently. 

“Have you delivered babies before?” She hissed through gritted teeth. 

“You’ll be number five.” He replied. 

“Okay.” She grimaced and cried out again. 

Mickey turned back around abruptly when Olivia moved into a more birthing friendly position. Ian chuckled and nudged him. “I don’t think so. Come over here and hold her hand. I’m gonna be down at the business end.”

Mickey crawled into the space Ian had created. He flashed a nervous grin at his husband. “You got this, Red?”

Olivia arched her eyebrow at Mickey. “Oh I’m sure he’s delighted to get an eyeful of vagina on his wedding day.”

Ian snorted a laugh. “It’s not my top choice any day, but all in a days work. I’ve got this.”

Things got messy pretty damn fast. Mickey lost all feeling in his hand after half an hour of contractions but he bravely didn’t mention it. Ian coached Olivia through each step and grinned with excitement when he cried out that he could see the head. 

“Mick, grab Olivia’s phone and video call her husband. The baby will be here soon.”

Mickey did as ordered and the anxious face of Joe Driscoll filled the screen. “Hey man, gonna pass you over to Olivia...”

Olivia wept when she saw her husband. “Oh honey. I’m sorry...”

“Why? What are you sorry for? You’re doing great.” Joe told her, trying to be calm. “The guys are there. Just breathe like we practiced.”

“I wanted you to meet these guys but I didn’t mean like this.” She laughed weakly. 

“So...which one is the lube guy?” Joe chuckled. 

Olivia laughed harder while Mickey gasped in shock. “Hey! You said you were discreet!”

“I am.” She argued. “I also said I tell my husband everything.”

Another contraction came and Ian coached her through it. “A couple more big pushes and you’ll be there. Come on, Liv.”

After that it all happened so fast. With Ian’s encouragement Olivia pushed her baby into the world on the back seat of their car. 

“Is he okay?” Joe demanded down the phone just as piercing scream filled the car. 

Ian smiled brightly. “He’s perfect. Congratulations guys.”

“Oh wow.” Olivia sniffed emotionally. 

“Open her shirt, Mick. Down to her skin.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Undressing our wedding planner. Not how I thought my wedding night would go...”

Olivia giggled deliriously when Ian lifted the baby to her chest. “Oh he’s so beautiful.”

Mickey glanced at Ian and tried not to gag. “Why’s it all slimy?”

Ian laughed cheerfully. “Yeah, they don’t show you this part on tv.”

“Honey, he’s gorgeous. I love you so much.” Joe cooed lovingly. 

Ian carefully used a clamp from his kit to prepare the cord and passed Mickey some scissors while he held it steady. 

“Me?” Mickey shrieked. 

Joe chuckled down the phone. “It’s okay. Do it for me.”

Mickey held the scissors in shaky hands and followed Ian’s instructions to cut between his fingers. “Holy fuck that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

“You’ve had a kidney transplant!” Ian barked. 

“I didn’t PERFORM the transplant!” Mickey shot back heatedly. 

“Hush. No yelling around the baby.” Olivia smiled indulgently. 

“Does he have a name already?” Ian asked, tucking mother and baby up in a blanket and then slumping against Mickey tiredly. 

“Yes, we finally agreed on a name last week. This is Daniel Joseph Driscoll.” Olivia introduced their son. 

“Beautiful.” Mickey murmured. 

“Hello Daniel.” Ian whispered. 

“Joe, we’re gonna head back to the hotel and wait until an ambulance can get out to us. Can you head there?” Ian yawned, nuzzling into Mickey’s chest. It was cramped in the back of the car but they all squeezed in. 

“I’ll do my best. Thanks guys. I won’t forget what you’ve done for us.” Joe wiped his eyes. 

It was nearly 4 in the morning when Ian and Mickey climbed into bed, completely wiped out when the adrenaline rush had worn off. 

“You’re amazing.” Mickey clung to Ian under the thick bed covers. Their wedding rings clicked together as they held hands.

“You helped.” Ian argued gently. 

They watched the last few flakes of snow drift down past the balcony doors. It was a beautiful end to a perfect day. Olivia and Joe had reunited at the hotel and then an hour earlier headed to the hospital with their brand new baby boy. 

“No.” Mickey pressed. “You did it. You brought a life into this world. Safely. In the back of a fuckin car. You’re... _incredible_.” 

“What a fuckin day.” Ian laughed. 

Mickey kissed the patch of skin on Ian’s chest where he rested. “Best day of my life.”

“Yeah?”

“Hands down.” 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good when we wake up tomorrow.” Ian promised. 

“Mmm.” Mickey drifted into a quiet lull before sleep. “Can’t wait.”

“Love you husband.” Ian kissed the top of his head and joined him in sleep. 


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every problem has a solution.

“It’s so big.”

Ian snorted a laugh. “I hear that a lot.”

Mickey elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a serious look. “Don’t ruin this beautiful moment with your dirty mouth.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey from behind and kissed below his ear as he whispered low and sultry. “You love my dirty mouth.”

Mickey leaned back in his husband’s embrace and gazed up at a magnificent structure in front of them. He couldn’t believe he was standing in front of Big Ben. He couldn’t believe he was on his honeymoon in _London_. Real life actual London. With Ian beside him. It was just one more surreal event in his totally surreal life these days. 

The day after their wedding, which was Christmas Eve, they’d made the trip to the hospital to visit Olivia and baby Daniel with some gifts they’d picked up at the gift shop. They got to talk to her husband Joe properly for the first time and he embraced them like long lost brothers. He promised to try to repay them for their kindness and they’d waved it off like it was nothing. To them, it wasn’t exactly _nothing_ but it was the only thing they would ever choose to do in the circumstances. Daniel had been delivered safely, Olivia was fit and well and they had ended the day married to each other. It was perfect for them. They didn’t think any more of it until they were back home to celebrate the holidays with their family and a package arrived in the post for them. Inside was two tickets for return flights to London in February, a 7 night stay in a hotel in the center of the city and a check for $5,000 for spending money. Mickey had wobbled on his feet with the shock of it all and Ian wasn’t faring much better. Inside was a note, which they read together in silent disbelief. 

“ _Hi guys, hope married life is treating you well and you are having a great Christmas with your family. I just wanted to say thanks again for all that you did for my family. We’ve waited a long time for our miracle baby to come along and Daniel is with us because of you. I will never, ever forget what you did. My family is everything to me and you guys will forever be part of our family now. I hope this trip goes some way to show my appreciation. Much love, Joe_.”

“Who the hell is this guy?” Carl was amazed as he read the note from Joe. 

Ian chuckled. “Joe Driscoll. We’ve only met him once.”

Lip’s head popped up over the back of the sofa where he was resting after dinner. “Did you just say Joe Driscoll?”

“Yeah.” Ian nodded. “Olivia’s husband.”

“Holy fuck. _The_ Joe Driscoll?” Lip sat up quickly. 

Mickey raised his brows. “How many times do you have to say Joe Driscoll before you summon the Candyman?”

Lip typed something into his phone and held it up to them. “That him?”

Mickey nodded. “That’s him. Who is he?”

“Who is he? Who...Jesus Christ he’s like the biggest programmer in the country right now. He’s like the...Christian Grey of military computer science!” Lip rambled excitedly. 

Ian tilted his head. “He’s not as good looking as Christian Grey.”

“Who is Christian Grey again?” Mickey frowned. 

“Kinky guy from those movies. Likes to whip chicks. Jamie Dornan played him.” Ian explained and Mickey grinned wickedly. 

“Oh yeah! No, definitely isn’t as hot as him.”

“Okay, pervs.” Lip shook his head. “Anyway, the gift is making a lot more sense now!”

“What do you mean?” Ian was confused. 

“Joe Driscoll is a self-made gazillionaire. He had this start-up IT firm when he was in college and then sold it to a global conglomerate. After that he set up a thing with the US Defense team and he writes code for digital surveillance. It’s all homeland security shit. But, tdlr, his mattress is made of hundred dollar bills and your trip is a drop in the ocean for him.” Lip rambled. 

Mickey smirked. “Uh do we need to tell Olivia you’ve got a serious boner for her husband?”

“I don’t!”

“Kinda sounds like you do.” Carl chipped in. 

“Fuck you all.” Lip slumped back onto the sofa and closed his eyes. 

So that’s how they came to be in London. For Valentine’s Day no less. After trying to tell Joe and Olivia that the gift was too much they lost in spectacular fashion and graciously accepted. Now they were gazing up at Big Ben and clinging to each other like it was all a dream they could be ripped from at any moment. 

“Where to now, husband?” Ian murmured in Mickey’s ear. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

They found a restaurant nearby and took a seat in the window so they could watch the world and the red double decker buses go by. Over burgers and fries they planned their next sightseeing spots to hit. 

“I looked online to see where the good clubs are. You wanna hit up some bars tonight and maybe grind up on me on a dance floor somewhere?” Ian’s brows wiggled as he grinned. 

Mickey snorted. “Sure. What’s the gay scene like here?”

“Makes Chicago look like amateur hour.” Ian replied instantly. 

“So I won’t get my head bashed in if I look at you for more than a second?”

“Nope. Looking, and indeed touching, is encouraged. We could head to Shoreditch. Hit some hipster bars and get a little juiced first.”

Mickey curled his lip. “Hipster bars?”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We can do some people watching and bitch about them over a ridiculously overpriced drink.” Ian giggled and popped one of Mickey’s fries into his mouth. 

“Sure. Why not?” Mickey agreed easily. 

Shoreditch was hipster paradise but Mickey found it didn’t wind him up as much as he thought it would. Hipsters back home had taken over the asylum in South Side. They’d taken over the land and built their micro-breweries but they still didn’t accept that they were hipsters. In Shoreditch, Mickey was delighted to see that everyone was very much aware that they were hipsters and they laughed along with the teasing they inevitably received. It was refreshing. Beards were trimmed like bonsai trees and Mickey counted more suspenders than he’d ever seen in his life but the people attached to them seemed to be good fun. Ian was working his way through a taster plank of beers while Mickey stuck to his bottle of Blue Moon. 

“You’re gonna be so hammered.” Mickey warned. “You don’t know the strength of that shit.”

Ian grinned. “You’ll carry me home though right?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Sure. At least I got medical insurance now so I don’t have to worry about you breaking my back.”

“If I ever break your back it won’t be from you carrying me, I promise you that.” Ian leered cheekily and Mickey scoffed a laugh. 

“Empty promises, Gallagher.” He retorted. “But seriously. Take it easy with that shit. You’re a lightweight these days.”

“Don’t worry. Once we’re back home I’ll be back on my usual teetotal bullshit.” Ian winked and picked up his next drink, which Mickey immediately pointed out looked like a urine sample he once gave in his pre-transplant life. 

A few hours later found them in a club recommended to them by the chatty as fuck barman in the last place they were at. Ian was tipsy and Mickey was slightly buzzed and they was good enough for both of them. One of the reasons Ian knew Mickey was the guy for him was how easy it was to spend time in his company without being hammered out of his skull. Giving up drinking for the most part was a piece of cake because Mickey was there to entertain him in other ways. 

“We’re in a shipping container.” Mickey giggled as Ian wound his arms around his waist and pulled him closer on the dance floor. 

“I know. Fuckin weird right?”

“English people have weird ideas. But this is pretty cool.” Mickey agreed and leaned against Ian’s solid frame as they danced to the pounding drum and bass beat. 

The club was indeed a huge converted shipping container in the middle of a pretty suburban part of Shoreditch. Neon green laser lights flashed and machines billowed out smoke to create a very 80’s atmosphere. The drinks were extortionately priced but they didn’t care because they were sticking to water for the rest of the night. Ian’s hand slid up under the hem of Mickey’s shirt and pressed on his clammy skin, holding him close. 

“I gotta pee. Wanna get us another drink?”

“Sure.”

When Mickey pushed his way to the bar he found himself standing next to tall, wiry blond guy who was smiling like he was a rat catcher and Mickey was an extra in Ratatouille. 

“Hello.” He drawled in a thick British accent. 

Mickey glanced around nervously before returning his eyes to the stranger. “Hey.”

“You’re American!”

“Got that from ‘hey’ huh?” 

The guy chuckled. “I’m good with accents. Do you live here or are you on holiday?”

Mickey looked around again, partly expecting this to be a set up because he had zero experience of being hit on in bars. Ian had the monopoly on that, for sure. “Uh...vacation. Honeymoon, actually.”

“Oh.” There was a flicker of disappointment in the man’s voice. “That is a shame.”

“Not for me.” Mickey chuckled. 

“I suppose not.” The guy laughed too. “Well, allow me to say your spouse is one lucky devil.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” Mickey laughed happily and waved down the barman. “Get you a drink?”

“Oh don’t worry, it’s fine.”

“Nah man, come on. Let me soothe the sting of rejection or whatever.” Mickey joked, his confidence bolstered by the encounter. 

“Well if you insist, I’ll have a vodka and coke please.”

Mickey ordered their drinks and the barman disappeared to make them, leaving them together for a moment longer. 

“I’m David, by the way.”

“Mickey.”

“Good to meet you Mickey. And thanks for the drink.”

“No sweat.” 

Once the drinks were served and paid for Mickey bid farewell to his new friend, turning back to the dance floor and coming face to face with his husband’s chin. He smiled disarmingly and handed over the bottle of water. 

“What’s with the face Gallagher?”

Ian scowled. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? Cause that chin is about to put someone’s eye out.” Mickey taunted. 

“Fine.” Ian ground out. “I turn my back to take a leak and you’re buying guys drinks?”

“One guy. One drink.” Mickey corrected. “And I’d already turned him down so it wasn’t like I was making a play for him.”

“ _You’d already turned him down_...are you joking? A guy comes onto you and you reward him with a $30 drink?” Ian raised his voice incredulously. 

“Oh simmer down, drama princess. I know you’re a bit dumb when it comes to the exchange rate but that drink was the equivalent of 18 dollars.”

“Oh my God.” Ian snapped. “You’re unbelievable!”

“Why is this pissing you off so much? I have to watch guys in clubs back home slipping their numbers in your back pocket and I don’t say a fuckin word but you can’t take a turn for once? What, am I so untrustworthy that I wait for you to walk away for five minutes and then jump on the first guy that smiles in my general direction?” Mickey finally lost his temper and snapped back at Ian, his jaw dropped open in surprise. 

“Guys don’t do that to me...”

“Yes they do. Yes they fuckin do! You don’t think I notice? It happens all the damn time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m under no illusion who the hot one is in this relationship but every once in a while someone might like what they see when they clock me. I don’t need you going all pouty face and angry when I handle it my way.” Mickey ranted. 

Ian stepped closer to Mickey so they were almost touching chests. “I can’t help being jealous, okay? You’re fuckin beautiful. Of course people are gonna look at you. I just hate the thought of them sleazing on you.”

“You wanna be the only one doing the sleazing huh.” Mickey sighed heavily. 

Ian cupped his husband’s cheek in his large hand and rested his forehead against Mickey’s. “I’ll do better.”

“I’m always gonna turn them down, Ian. Just like I know you do.” Mickey promised. 

“I know.”

“It’s only ever been you.” Mickey leaned into Ian so his words were breathy whispers in his ear. 

“I’m sorry I’m a jealous jerk.” Ian replied and Mickey just smiled, kissing him softly. The music seemed to get louder and more frenetic as their kiss deepened. 

“Wanna get outta here?” Mickey wrenched his lips away. 

“Oh god yes.”

It became apparent the following day when they stopped for lunch at a traditional British pub that it wasn’t just a one off random guy in a shipping container that had the hots for Mickey. Ian realized with a sense of awe that the whole of London had the hots for Mickey. Everyone gave him a second, and sometimes third, look. The server in the pub brought their chicken pies over to their table and couldn’t keep her eyes off Mickey, giggling when he spoke to her and left with emoji-style hearts in her eyes. When a different server cleared their plates away she too was captivated by Mickey and didn’t spare Ian a glance. 

“What?” Mickey frowned at Ian, shifting in his seat slightly. 

Ian couldn’t help the smirk of triumph creeping on his face, knowing he was the one causing Mickey to shift around in his seat. After leaving the club the night before they had gone at it pretty much all night and Mickey was feeling the effects. “Nothing. Just noticing everyone around here noticing you.”

Mickey scoffed a laugh. “Shut up man.”

“I’m serious. Nobody is giving me a second look. Everyone is too busy giving you the bedroom eyes.”

Mickey’s adorable blush crept up his neck. “Yeah well, we’re in England. Gingers are dime a dozen around here. My Ukrainian ass is a bit of strange.”

“Yeah. But I kinda like it, you know? Seeing people appreciate you like I do. It’s hot.” Ian grinned. 

Mickey’s brows shot up. “So we’ve gone from you basically pissing on my leg so guys won’t even look at me last night to this pile of mushy sentiment today? You give me whiplash, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled shyly. “I know. Sorry.”

Mickey’s hands went up in surrender. “You just keep me right. Am I supposed to be happy when you’re jealous or am I supposed to be pissed? Cuz last night being pissed at you kinda worked in my favor.”

Ian laughed softly. “I don’t want you to be pissed at me. Although that _was_ some hot fucking.”

Mickey reached out and brushed his knuckles against the back of Ian’s hand. “The hottest.”

The server came back with their bill and saw their tiny public display of affection before Mickey had a chance to move his hand. Her face froze and her eyes widened before her smile clicked back into place. Mickey smiled at her blindingly and pulled out his wallet. 

“It’s my turn to pay.” Ian moved to grab the bill. 

“Hey, we’re married now Gallagher. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.” Mickey chuckled and the server blushed to her blonde roots. Ian giggled and pulled Mickey by the neck so he could press a kiss to his husband’s temple. 

“Good luck with that. What’s mine is a fuck ton of not much.” 

Mickey handed over enough to cover the bill and leave a decent tip. “Let’s go. I wanna check out the London Eye.”

They dashed out of the pub hand in hand with the biggest smiles on their faces. 

All good things must come to an end and they were on their flight back to Chicago with another three hours to go. It was late so all the cabin lights were out and Ian couldn’t keep his wandering hands to himself. 

“Stop it.” Mickey grunted sleepily, his eyes screwed closed. “I’m tryna sleep.”

Ian pulled his hand out from under the blanket covering Mickey and sighed. “I’m bored.”

“So jerk yourself off. Leave me out of it. My dick is raw and my ass is sore.” Mickey grumbled. 

There was a delicate cough and Mickey’s eyes flew open. The air hostess was in the aisle with wide eyes and a wicked smirk fixed on her face. 

“Nuts, sir?” She quipped and dangled a bag of dry roasted peanuts in the air.

Mickey’s blush reached new heights and Ian couldn’t stifle his laugh if his life depended on it. 

“You’re a dick.” Mickey snapped at him. 

“Oh relax. She’s bound to have seen and heard it all before.” Ian wiped his streaming eyes. 

“Oh trust me, nothing surprises me anymore. Now...how about some drinks?” She grinned broadly. 

“Beer. He’s paying.” Mickey retorted. 

February in Chicago was the type of cold that bites you on the ass after you think you’ve survived January. Their vacation was over and it was back to work for both of them. Mickey loved his job. Considering he had no idea what an Office Manager was when Lip first approached him, he more than rose to the challenge of the role and had the whole garage whipped into shape. Brad was learning that Mickey didn’t take praise very well but found other ways to reward him. Every Friday he bought them breakfast. He let Mickey clock off half hour early every now and then when Ian got off work around the same time so they could head home together. It was little things that let Mickey know he was appreciated. So after a while Mickey relaxed enough to drop his guard a little. Just enough for Brad to sneak in and become his friend. It caught Mickey by surprise at first but he was used to it now. A couple of years ago he could easily go months without interacting with anyone other than his doctor and his pharmacist. Now he had a husband, a huge ass extended family, a best friend, work colleagues who he could shoot the shit with and Olivia, a little mysterious dynamo who would move heaven and earth for him and Ian. It was like he was tripping over people who cared about him but it was okay, because another of those people would be there to catch him before he hit the ground. 

“Your brother worked for The Pinch?” Brad repeated Mickey’s conversational words slowly. 

Mickey nodded and rolled his pen around his bottom lip as he typed at his computer. He’d just installed a new payroll system and he was trying to run a beta check before going live but Brad was insisting on chatting like a teenage girl. “Yes.”

“And he’s still alive?”

“Yes.” Mickey replied. 

“Fuck me, he must have a guardian angel looking out for him.” Brad whistled. 

Mickey sighed and rubbed his forehead when he mistyped the bank account details for the third time. He threw down his pen and gave it up as a waste of time until he could get rid of Brad. “If he was a cat he’d be onto life number 8 at least.”

“What’d he do for him?”

“Officially? Mechanic. Driver. General lackey. Iggy is good at fixing shit and selling drugs so it was a mash up of the two. One he paid taxes on, the other he didn’t.” Mickey explained. “But he assures me he’s on the straight and narrow now. A reformed character.”

“Oh yeah?”

“So he says. I dunno. What’s that saying?Leopard, spots. He lived in Detroit for a while, got a legit job in an auto shop and met a girl. They’ve got a kid now and he’s back home. Gotta give him the benefit of the doubt I suppose.” Mickey shrugged. 

“You changed. Right?” 

Mickey gave a twisted smile in response. “I didn’t change. I just didn’t die when I was supposed to.”

Brad barked a laugh and shook his head. “You’re dark as fuck, Mick.”

Mickey chuckled and shrugged again. “Funny. That’s what Ian says sometimes.”

“He’s definitely got a point. So you guys are gonna check out adoption agencies soon?”

Mickey wiggled his mouse to stop the screensaver kicking in. “I think so. I still want to. Just giving Ian some time to think things through. This whole marriage thing happened so fast. I don’t wanna trap him.”

“Trap him?” Brad scoffed. “From what Lip tells me he’s got a bad case of the forever feels.”

“Forever feels?” Mickey repeated incredulously. “Have you been reading Cami’s magazines again?”

Brad laughed heartily. “She leaves them in the bathroom. What else am I supposed to look at when I take a shit?”

“Instagram, like a normal person.” Mickey retorted with a smirk. 

“You’re on Instagram?” Brad reached for his phone and began to scroll. 

Mickey rubbed his eyes and let out a low groan. He didn’t have time for this shit but he could hardly kick his boss out of his office. Or could he? 

“If I let you follow me will you get back to work? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re putting off fixing up that Thunderbird because the guy is a complete asshole who will haggle on the price when he picks it up later.”

Brad smiled sheepishly. “He’s worse than an asshole. But yes. I will.”

“Okay. Look for MAGM0810. That’s me.”

A second later Brad crowed excitedly. “Found you!”

“Congratulations. Now you can enjoy the one photo a month Ian makes me upload just so I can be a contributing member of social media society.”

“Ahh you’ve got some honeymoon pictures on here! Aww.”

“Fuck you man, I was in _London_. Course I was gonna document that shit.”

“Fair enough. Furthest I’ve made is Vancouver. And even that was cuz I took a wrong turn in Seattle.”

“What the fuck? Never mind. Back to work. Asshole is picking the ‘bird up at 4 and you’ve just wasted an hour talking shit to me.”

Brad chuckled and pocketed his phone. “I enjoy our little chats, Mick.”

Mickey flipped him off and got back to his actual day job. 

Ian scheduled an appointment with the adoption agency contact Mickey’s doctor had given them. It was heading into March and he was keen to get the ball rolling since everyone knew babies weren’t just handed out like Smarties at Easter. Mickey was nervous but found himself sitting in the office of Madeline Whitelaw waiting for her to grill them. 

“Julia told me to expect you but that was some time ago. I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind.” She smiled from across her desk. 

Ian smiled back. “No, not at all. We had our wedding to plan, then the big day. And we needed to settle into our home. Now we’re ready to move forward.”

“Great. Let me explain the process and you can tell me if anything sounds like it could be an issue.”

For the next fifteen minutes she explained everything from A to Z of the adoption process. Mickey’s eyes were wide with information overload while Ian jotted down notes like the nerd he was deep down. 

“So, still interested?” Madeline asked with an open smile. 

Ian glanced at Mickey, who nodded shyly. 

“100% interested.”

“Okay. Let’s get started...”

It took an hour for them to complete the questionnaire and arrange a home visit. Madeline seemed relaxed about the whole thing but Mickey couldn’t shake the anxiety that chewed at him. On the way home he was quiet and sullen, something Ian couldn’t ignore. 

“What’s going on?”

Mickey bit his bottom lip. “Guess I’m struggling to understand why anyone would give me a kid.”

Ian snorted. “Maybe cuz you’re the most caring, loving person in the world?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Look,” Ian soothed. “Madeline said herself they’re not looking for perfection. They want love. Stability. We can give them that.”

“Whatever, man. I just know something is gonna go wrong.” Mickey huffed. 

It didn’t take long for Mickey to be proved right. Madeline called four days later to update them on their application and let them know that Mickey’s juvenile record was causing some problems. 

“They unseal juvenile records?” Ian was stunned. 

“Yes. Some authorities do. And his makes for some interesting reading.” 

Mickey scowled at the phone and rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly Lord of the Rings.”

Madeline chuckled darkly. “It’s about the same amount of pages.”

“So what happens now?” Ian cut in. 

“We petition the courts for it to be struck from the record. It’s past indiscretions and he’s never been in trouble as an adult.”

Mickey scoffed. “Too busy dying.”

“MICKEY!” Ian hissed angrily. 

“Your home study is going ahead as planned. We’ll deal with the rest as we go.” Madeline confirmed. 

Carl placed the popcorn shrimp on the table in front of Mickey and sat down opposite him. 

“You’re driving away my customers. What’s with the long face?”

“Your shitty customer service is driving away customers.” Mickey retorted and snatched up some of the fried food. 

“Fuck you. I’m employee of the month every damn month.”

Mickey’s laugh came out as a snort. “That cuz you let your creepy boss lady touch you up behind the fryers?”

“Maybe. Who cares? It’s an extra fifty in my pay check every month.” Carl laughed. “Seriously though, what’s up?”

Mickey chewed his food and then swigged back some water. “Adoption agency has found my juvie record. Probably gonna fuck things up for us.”

Carl winced in sympathy. “Bad shit in there?”

“Robbery. Possession of an unregistered firearm. Possession of a controlled substance. Grand theft auto. Criminal damage.” Mickey reeled off. “Yeah. Bad shit.”

Carl gave a low whistle. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Only married a couple months and I’m already gonna break his heart.”

“Dramatic much?” Carl chuckled. “Why don’t you just ask Debbie to have a kid for you?”

Mickey’s brows shot up his forehead. “You want me to knock up your sister?”

“Well I _really_ don’t want Ian to do it.” Carl retorted with a shudder. 

“Eew! What the fuck is this? You’re supposed to be making me feel better, not putting that sick image in my head!”

“Who said I was meant to make you feel better?”

“That’s what best friends do. Why the fuck do you think I’m here?”

Carl giggled merrily at his snark. “Okay. You want my advice?”

“Not if it’s in any way related to me fucking your sister.”

“Eew right back at ya!” Carl glared. “I meant with a turkey baster!”

“Oh yeah cuz that is _so_ much better!”

“Shut up.” Carl demanded. “My advice is to stop worrying about upsetting Ian. He only gets upset when you’re upset.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Find solutions to the problem together. Don’t alienate him by putting this whole thing on you. Ian was no angel when he was a teenager. He just got away with warnings and a slap on the wrist cuz we knew the local cop.”

Mickey folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “You’re like a wise old owl.”

“Fuck you. Eat your shrimp.” Carl shot back. 

Ian was working extra shifts to pay for a new washing machine because he didn’t want the adoption agency to think their kid would be walking around in dirty clothes. Mickey was watching him run himself into the ground for something that probably wouldn’t happen and it killed him. His energetic, positive thinking husband was completely blinkered about the whole thing. 

“Gallagher. You gotta slow down.” He groaned when Ian woke him getting into bed at 5am. 

“Almost there.” Ian kissed his shoulder and flopped onto his back. 

“Maybe we need to look at other options.”

“We don’t have other options.” Ian replied simply. “It’s frowned upon to steal kids from Target when their parents aren’t looking.”

Mickey snorted a laugh. “True. But there could be other ways. Carl mentioned something...”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. If Carl came up with an idea we’re gonna end up dead or in jail.”

Mickey shoved at Ian’s head. “It was crazy but I dunno...”

“Go on then. Tell me Carl Francis Gallagher’s masterplan.” Ian yawned. 

“His idea was that we could ask Debbie to have our baby.” Mickey blurted out and was met by complete silence. Hours seemed to tick by while Ian’s jaw rested on his chest. Finally he spoke. 

“You are not knocking up my sister.”

Mickey cracked a knowing grin. “No. But I was thinking maybe you could knock up my sister.”

Ian recommenced his goldfish impression. “Are you...are you kidding me right now? Is that what this is? You’re having a big ol’ joke.”

Mickey turned fully on his side to face Ian. “It’s not a joke. At the wedding, Mandy said she would help us. She’d hit the champagne pretty hard but I think she was serious.”

“Are _you_ serious?” Ian spluttered. “What the fuck?”

Mickey closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. “I don’t think the adoption thing is gonna work out. And that’s on me. So I’m tryna come up with another way. I think this could work. Our baby but without my fucked up defects.”

Ian fell silent and let the idea absorb into his mind. 

“You don’t think it’s kinda...icky?” He sighed. 

Mickey chuckled softly. “I don’t want you to fuck her, Ian. Turkey baster all the way.”

“Well you’ve just ruined Thanksgiving for me.” Ian smirked. 

“Think it over. No pressure. You don’t like the idea, we forget it.” Mickey pressed his lips to Ian’s shoulder and turned over to sleep. 

Mandy was in St Louis, working on a fucking huge important pitch for work, when her phone beeped. She grabbed it up, expecting it to be Lip. He’d been in constant text contact since their hook up in the closet at Ian and Mickey’s wedding. He wanted to meet up again and she was playing it very cool. Not because she didn’t like the guy. She did. He was hot and funny. Maybe a little jabby when doing the deed but alcohol and confined spaces could do that to a guy. She was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because when she finally got off it was a feeling to behold. She was holding back because they were in different states with different priorities. There was no use in pursuing something that was doomed to fail. She had her sights on a promotion to Regional Manager and that would mean a move back to her hometown, with a decent apartment in a neighborhood that was more North Side than South Side but there was no guarantees it would come off. When she saw her brother’s name on the screen she clicked connect with a cheerful hello. 

“What up, assface?”

“Hey Mands. How’s it going?” Mickey’s voice sounded jittery already. 

“Good. You doing okay?”

“Uh. Yeah. Listen I need to talk to you. I don’t really wanna do this over the phone but I dunno when I’ll get a chance to visit anytime soon...”

“Spit it out, Mickey. We’re not getting any younger.” She cut in. 

Patience was never Mandy’s strong suit. 

“Remember the wedding? When we talked and you said you would help us out if the adoption thing didn’t work out...”

“Yeah.”

“How fucked up on champagne were you and how serious was your offer?” Mickey’s words tumbled out. 

Mandy chuckled. “Serious? Of course I was serious. I wouldn’t fuck around with you like that.”

Mickey’s breath left him in a whoosh. “Okay. So can we talk about it maybe?”

“If you want your sex on a stick husband to knock me up, I’m fine with that.” Mandy giggled. 

“Ugh. Seriously. I need people to stop putting that image in my head.” He groaned in reply. 

“I got some vacation time to take. I’ll come for a visit and we can talk.” She offered.

His heart clenched with love for his sister. “Thanks Mands.”

“I need to hear Ian’s thoughts on this.” Mandy was uncharacteristically serious and Mickey knew she was being sensible. 

“I know.”

“Okay. I gotta go.”

Mickey hung up and glanced at Ian, who was currently chewing down his thumbnail to a fine point. 

“Well?” He asked tentatively. 

Mickey smiled shyly. “I think we’ve got our solution.”

Ian exhaled his relief and pulled Mickey into his arms. “Thank God.”


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life moves on and the boys adapt to the changes.

The day Mandy emerged from their bathroom with a giddy smile and a positive pregnancy test in her hand was the day Madeline had called to tell them their application to adopt had been rejected by the courts. The news came an hour after the test result so it was less of a blow but Ian was still quietly furious that their attempt had been for nothing. Some stuffy judge in a room far from their reality had decided that they wouldn’t make suitable parents. That stung at him more than he expected it to. But they had another option and it was proving to be the better option anyway. 

It had only taken four attempts. Four short months. Ian’s medical background told him that it could take a while for Mandy to fall pregnant. There were many factors involved. Artificial insemination (a term Mickey refused to utter, because, _eew_ ) was never as successful as the more conventional way babies had been made since the dawn of time and Mandy had been on birth control for over a decade. Sometimes it took time to work itself out of the body. So when the test showed two blue lines after just four months they were not ready. To clarify, _Mickey_ was not ready. 

“We’re having a baby.” He muttered on a loop as he paced around the apartment. 

Ian had only been home for a minute and was still shedding his uniform. “I know. It’s still sinking in.”

“A baby, Ian. A human life. We’re gonna be responsible for keeping it alive!” Mickey ranted. 

“Mick, you doing okay?” Ian stepped in front of his husband to bring an end to his pacing. 

“Me? Oh yeah. I’m fine.” Mickey replied sarcastically. 

Ian frowned sadly. “Have you changed your mind?”

Mickey looked thoroughly offended. “Of course not! But why aren’t you freaking out?”

“I’m freaking out that you’re freaking out, if I’m honest. I know having a baby is scary but this is what we signed up for. Now I’m starting to panic you’re not on board with it.” Ian replied simply. 

“Well fuck you.” Mickey huffed. “I am on board. I’m just scared. I mean, who are our paternal role models?”

“Bob Ross. Dick Van Dyke. Bill Nye.” Ian reeled off. 

“Why are you naming old famous men?” Mickey spluttered a laugh. 

“Not just men. Big Bird was a solid influence too.” Ian grinned. 

Mickey felt the tension in his shoulders float away. “Oh so we just need to be as good as three old famous white guys and a large yellow bird and we’ve got parenting nailed huh?”

“Exactly!” Ian clapped his hands. “We’ve got artistic creativity, science and suspect English accents covered by the guys and Big Bird will see us right with good, moral decision making skills. Honestly, we can forget anything Frank and Terry ever brought to the table.” 

Mickey tipped his head back and laughed. “You’re such a goofball.”

“Hey. You married me.”

“I did.” Mickey conceded. “Best thing I ever did.”

It was a tough secret to keep between the three of them for the first trimester. They were all quietly superstitious and needed to get through the first part with a healthy scan to show for it before they told any friends or family. On the day of the first sonogram, Ian got out of work and met up with Mickey and Mandy for the appointment. 

“Okay.” The sonographer glanced between the three of them. “I just need the mom and the dad in the room.”

“Nah.” Mandy shook her head. “You need all three of us. They are the mom and dad. I’m just the easy-bake oven.”

“Jesus Christ, Mandy.” Mickey groaned while Ian chortled in amusement. 

The sonographer was taken aback but nodded and ushered all three of them into a room. Mandy hopped onto the bed and pulled up her shirt. 

“Am I gonna see anything I shouldn’t see?” Mickey frowned when the lace trim of Mandy’s bra came into view. 

“No, dumbass. He’s just gonna squirt the jelly on me and you look at the screen. You never even seen this in a movie?” She rolled her eyes. 

“Not a lot of sonograms in Seagal action movies, Mandy.” Ian giggled and ducked to avoid Mickey’s elbow. 

A second later a quiet noise filled the air. It got louder and Ian’s eyes widened in amazement. 

“That’s the heartbeat.” He whispered to Mickey, taking his hand and squeezing gently. 

“No shit.” Mickey smiled happily. “That warbling is a heartbeat?”

“There we go. Found you.” The sonographer spoke to the screen. “All present and correct. Two arms. Two legs. Good set of lungs. Smooth heartbeat.”

“And definitely just the one baby.” Ian clarified. He was so ready to be a father but one baby was scary enough at this point. 

“Definitely.”

Mandy smiled at the guys. “There we go. One trimester down. Two to go.”

“This is amazing.” Mickey was awestruck and peered at the screen like it was the Super Bowl. 

“I’ll get you some prints of the scan and then we’ll schedule you for another in about eight weeks. You can let me know then if you want to know the sex of the baby.”

The whole thing took less than an hour and then Mandy was on her way back to St Louis. Work was getting exciting and she didn’t want to miss out on too much. Ian and Mickey headed to the Alibi to meet up with Carl for a drink and to tell him their good news. 

“Fuckhead, you want a drink?” Mickey yelled across the bar to Carl when they arrived. 

“What’s my options?” He eyed the top shelf. 

“Yes or fuckin no.” Mickey shot back, to the amusement of Kev behind the bar. 

“Get him a beer. Two sodas for me and Ian.” Mickey requested. 

It was testament to the couple that the bar now served soda. That was certainly a new thing. Mickey carried the drinks over to the booth that Carl had snagged and sat down next to his husband. 

“What’s got you in a good mood?” Carl sipped his beer. 

Ian pulled a tiny photo out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “Baby’s first photo.”

Carl’s jaw hit the table and his eyebrows hit the roof. “No fucking way.”

“I know. Scary shit.” Mickey agreed. 

Carl squinted at the kidney bean in the picture. “I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

Mickey and Ian shared a glance and both blushed. 

“Nah. Neither did we. And we didn’t wanna look like dumb gay dads so we just pretended we knew what it all was.” Mickey replied. 

Carl snuffled a laugh. “This is fuckin incredible. I’m so happy for you. I know how much you want this.”

Ian reached under the table and grasped Mickey’s fingers. The older man wiggled them in Ian’s grip and laced them together. 

“How’s Mandy doing?” Carl gulped down more beer. 

Carl was the only person who knew Mandy was their surrogate. They didn’t want to have to deal with everyone having an opinion on the matter until it was a done deal. The Gallagher clan were a supportive and loving bunch but they all liked to throw their two cents in when nobody asked for it. Mandy didn’t need the pressure either, so they kept it to themselves while they went through the process. As always, Carl was Mickey’s go-to guy when he needed to talk and so he was let in on the secret as soon as the test showed positive. 

“Not throwing up so much and getting used to being tired all the time.” Ian smiled. “So that’s good.”

“She’s tougher than anyone I ever met. She’s sailing through it.” Mickey agreed with a fond smile for his sister. 

“Now for the important stuff. You’re gonna name the bean after me, right?”

Mickey looked affronted. “I’m not calling my kid Fuckhead.”

Carl just shook his head in dismay. Mickey called Ian lame so much and yet he was just as bad. 

Lip went through a range of emotions when he found out Mandy was carrying his brother’s baby. Some of it rational. Some of it not so much. The happiness of his brother getting the happy ever after he had always dreamed of was dampened by the knowledge that Ian’s baby was growing inside the person he had been trying to get closer to for the last eight months. Mandy had played it cool to the point that Lip almost gave up, but he had never felt a spark like this with anyone for a long time so he was hesitant to let it go. Discovering that Mandy was now playing such a pivotal role in Ian’s life story made him take a step back and feel the sadness of losing his own potential happy ever after. 

“You didn’t tell me.” He walked up behind Mandy in a supermarket in St Louis. 

She reeled around and his eyes flicked down to the burgeoning bump that was almost completely hidden by her dress. “Lip? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you. Ian told us...their happy news. I just had this need to see you.”

Mandy sighed and tossed the bag of salad leaves into her cart. “Look, I'm sorry I didn’t tell you. But it wasn’t my secret to reveal, okay? Mickey and Ian want this so badly and I wanted so badly to help them.”

“I know. I understand. Is this why you’ve been keeping me at arms length?” He shifted on his heels. 

Mandy smiled sadly. “No. Honestly? I didn’t think we had a shot at making anything work out long term. I’m here. You’re not. The baby is just a momentary interlude before I go back to kicking ass in my job.”

Lip’s face fell. He was crestfallen at her words and didn’t know what to say. 

“I like you. A lot.” Mandy conceded. “But you’re doing your thing and I’m doing mine.”

He nodded. “I just sort of thought, I dunno, we clicked?”

“Oh we did. We clicked hard.” She grinned. “The timing is just off. And your brother knocking me up surprisingly has nothing to do with it.”

A lady nearby gaped at them as she walked by with a zucchini in her hand. Mandy glared at her until she sped up to pass them. 

Lip started to laugh. “That’s always gonna sound so weird.”

“Like I told them at the scan appointment, I’m just the easy bake oven.” She replied simply. 

Lip’s breath left through his nose in a loud snort. “Oh my God.”

“My food is defrosting. Wanna help me get this home and I’ll make us some dinner?”

“Sure.” He agreed, nodding firmly. Maybe she was right. Their timing was off. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. For the first time in his life, Lip was content to be just friends with a woman he’d been intimate with. How was that for personal growth?

When the boys met up with Mandy again for the next scan they still hadn’t decided if they wanted to know the sex of the baby. 

“It’s not important. Why bother?” Ian shrugged, flipping through a magazine about fertility in the waiting room. 

“Oh God. Are you one of those?” Mandy laughed loudly. 

“One of what?”

“One of those ‘ _I won’t reveal their gender until they are old enough to tell you themselves_ ’ types?” Mandy teased with a squeaky voice. 

Ian huffed and flipped the page. “No I am not. I just don’t care what we’re having so it’s no big deal to wait. We can paint the nursery neutral colors.”

Mickey nodded along. “I don’t care.”

Mandy pouted. She really wanted to know. “I think you’re being unfair.”

“If you wanna find out, go for it. We’ll leave the room and they can tell you. But I know for a fact you’ll spill your guts before we make it out of the parking lot.” Mickey grinned. 

“Fine.” She folded her arms over her sizeable bump. “Bean, your dads are being mean to your poor Aunt Mandy.”

Mickey smiled fondly at the nickname. After Carl called the scan picture a bean the name stuck with them and as Mandy grew the nickname grew with her. Now the baby was halfway grown and Mickey had completely accepted his fate as a soon to be father to their little Bean. 

They were called into the room by a different sonographer. This one was a small lady with a pixie style haircut and a sharp nose. She glanced between the three of them and it was clear she hadn’t read their notes. Mandy didn’t wait for her to speak. 

“Dads. Surrogate. All in the room.”

“Alright then.” The sonographer finally smiled. “Come on in. My name is Jane.”

A few minutes later Jane was caught up on their situation courtesy of Ian’s brief explanation and now the image was jumping on the screen as Jane tried to focus. 

“There! Nice and steady.” She beamed when it settled. The outline of Bean was now much more clear and Mickey gasped quietly. 

“I see it now.” He whispered to Ian. 

Ian grabbed his husband by the hand. “Me too! It’s so amazing.”

“Strong heartbeat.” Jane mused to herself as she took down some measurements. “Are we finding out the sex?”

Ian and Mickey shared a glance and smiled. “Sure. Go for it.”

Mandy tried to sit up but was thwarted by the sticky jelly. “You didn’t want to know!”

“No, we didn’t care. But you do so this is the least we can do.” Mickey grinned. 

“Oh sure. I ruin my banging body for you guys to have a baby and in return I get a single piece of ultimately useless information. Nice trade.” Mandy bitched with a smile on her face. 

Jane looked between the three of them and Mickey gave the final nod. She smiled broadly and checked the screen again. 

“It’s a girl.”

Ian felt a swooping in his stomach. For some reason, based on zero evidence or fact, he was convinced it was a boy. Finding out he was having a daughter came as a surprise. Mickey looked dazed as a slow smile spread across his face. He held his sister’s hand tightly. 

“I’ll get you some copies and give you a moment.” Jane murmured and left the room. 

Mandy pointed at Mickey. “You gotta let her out of the house before she’s 40.”

“What?” He frowned. “No I don’t.”

Ian chuckled and pulled Mickey closer. He pressed his lips tenderly to his temple. “We’re gonna be Girl-Dads. That’s so cool.”

“You say cool, I say fuckin terrifying.” Mickey retorted. 

“Tomato tomahto.” Ian tickled him. 

The first person Mickey sought out when Mandy was headed home and Ian had gone to work was Carl. The younger man had the late shift at the Shack so Mickey wandered in to sit in a booth while he worked. It was usually quiet so they could catch up while Carl cleaned up at the end of the day. The place was almost empty with just a couple of tables occupied.

“All good with Bean?” Carl asked immediately when Mickey walked in.

Mickey fist-bumped his best friend. “All good.”

Carl relaxed and grabbed a cup for Mickey to fill up at the soda station. “I’ll bring over some bits. Take a seat.”

When Carl dropped into the booth opposite him a few minutes later he brought a tray of Mickey’s favorite fried snacks. Popcorn shrimp and fries. Mickey reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the latest scan image, passing it over to Carl. 

“Oh wow! It’s an actual baby!”

“I know!” Mickey laughed. “With arms and legs and a head! She’s perfect.”

“She?” Carl gasped. 

Mickey flushed slightly. “Yeah. It’s a girl.”

“A little Carla!” 

“Nope. I’d actually rather call her Bean for the rest of her life.” Mickey joked. 

Carl slid the photo back to Mickey and his expression turned serious, which was something of an anomaly in the younger man. “You know that having a girl comes with an extra responsibility, right?”

Mickey chewed on his lip. “I know.”

“It’s not a nice world out there for girls. I used to be part of the problem. The more Debbie would holler about equality and women’s rights the more I seemed to treat girls I knew badly. I’m not like that now. At least I hope I’m not. I don’t chase tail like it’s owed to me anymore. But that’s the kinda stuff girls have to deal with and it sucks.” Carl mumbled, his eyes on the table like he was embarrassed of his former ways. 

“You’re not like that now.” Mickey confirmed. “It’s not an excuse, but it’s not like we had strong role models to teach us growing up. We had late night tv and rap music. It was never gonna make us good people.” 

“Exactly. And that’s what I mean. The extra responsibility of having a daughter. It’s about raising her to be strong and confident in a world that wants her to be weak and meek. It’s about letting her know she can come to you about anything that bothers her and you’ll help her fix it. It’s about raising her to know that if any fucker messes with her then her Uncle Carl will knock heads together until they bleed.”

Mickey laughed at Carl’s rant. It was just like him to get all hyped up and then end on a note that brings it all back down to earth. “You’ll help us, right?”

Carl smiled and nodded. “Of course. My niece is gonna be the coolest.”

Mickey sipped on his Dr Pepper, a little treat to celebrate the latest scan. “She’s a lucky girl. Everyone loves her already.”

Mickey got home after walking back with Carl at the end of his shift. He hated coming home to an empty apartment. It was the one negative thing about the job Ian loved so much. It wouldn’t be too long before he had someone around to keep him busy when Ian was at work so he tried to enjoy the peaceful time he had alone before it was gone for the next eighteen years. He headed straight to the bathroom and took a quick shower, drying off on his walk to the bedroom. On the bed was a small white box with a pink bow tied around it. He lifted the lid and tears sprung to his eyes when he saw a tiny white romper with ‘ _50% Milkovich 50% Gallagher 100% Awesome’_ written in pink lettering on the body. It was mind blowing to think a human could fit into something so small. He wiped at his eyes as he picked up the card with his name on the front. Ian’s scrawl was familiar and soothing. 

“ _Mick, I can’t wait to start the next chapter of our adventure with you. Our baby girl already has the best Daddy in the world. Love you so much_.”

Mickey chuckled and wiped away his fresh tears with the heel of his hand. He grabbed up his phone and shot off a quick text to Ian. 

“ _You are lame and cheesy and I love you._ ”

His phone rang a minute later. 

“Hey.”

“You like it?” Ian cut to the chase, a sign Mickey understood was that he was having a busy night but couldn’t wait to speak to his husband. 

“Fuckin love it, man. How’d you get the pink shit so soon?”

Ian chuckled softly down the phone. “Didn’t. There’s an identical romper in the closet with blue writing.”

Mickey burst into quiet giggles. “Course there is.”

“We can save it for the next time.”

“Next time?”

“Hmm.” Ian hummed. “I want, like, a million kids with you.”

“Mandy is not gonna agree to that.” Mickey chuckled. 

“I love you, Mick.”

“Love you too Gallagher. Now get back to work.”

They hung up and Mickey carefully folded the romper back in the box before tucking it safely in his nightstand. He climbed into bed and buried his face in Ian’s pillow. Even though he wasn’t beside him physically, he’d never felt closer to Ian. 


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end, just a little epilogue to come. Thanks to everyone for reading! 🧡

Time seemed to fly by faster than the speed of light from that point. Mandy was planning to work right up until a couple of weeks before her due date and then head back to Chicago for the birth. That plan changed around the run up to the holidays when her blood pressure shot up and she was signed off work for the last few weeks of her pregnancy. The due date of February 3rd seemed so far away when she was stuck with nothing to do all day. To make matters worse she was staying in the Gallagher house and had to see Lip on a semi-regular basis. Seeing him was fine. Seeing him and not being able to jump his bones was a different matter entirely. For his part, Lip was the perfect gentleman. He was thoughtful and made an effort to check up on her whenever he was able. 

“You look great.” He beamed happily from the doorway of Ian’s old bedroom. 

Mandy was on the bed wearing sweats and no make up, cursing her luck for having found a man she actually saw some semblance of a future with while she was knocked up by his brother. It was some bitch ass luck. 

“I am a beached whale, Philip. I haven’t seen my ankles for a fortnight and I have heartburn so bad I want to rip my insides out and bathe them in a vat of cold milk.” She replied haughtily. 

Lip folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “That is...oddly specific.”

“And yet, the truth prevails.”

“You’re fucking beautiful.” He retorted. 

She smiled tiredly. “It’s kind of you to come all this way to tell me that pack of lies.”

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, his voice turning soft. 

Mandy shook her head. “I’m going to try to sleep now. I have a window of opportunity before I get an ill-timed kick in the bladder.”

Lip chuckled. “It’s still so crazy to think you’re gonna be my niece’s mom.”

“Whoa. Nope. No no no. I’m gonna be your niece’s aunt. Period.” Mandy laughed with a shake of her head. 

“Okay.” Lip nodded. “Not feeling any hormonal pull in the direction of motherhood now you’ve got a bun in the oven?”

Mandy gave a half shrug. “Not really. Not yet anyway. I always thought one day I’d have kids. No harm in a practice run, right? In case the right guy comes along.”

Lip scratched at the back of his neck and dropped his eyes to the floor. He’d never been shy around women before but there was something about Mandy that got him twisted up in knots. It was no exaggeration when he said he thought they’d clicked when they met at the wedding. She’d captivated him from the start. 

“I think you’re doing an incredible thing.” He told her. “You’re always going to be a part of this family now.”

“Jesus. Nobody told me that before I accepted your brother’s cup of jizz. Might’ve given it more consideration.” Mandy teased. 

“Annnnnnnd that’s where it got weird. Goodnight Mandy.”

She waved as he pushed off the door and walked backwards out of the room. When he was gone she sighed heavily and placed her hand on her protruding stomach. “Oh Bean. He’s messing me up.”

The subject of naming their daughter first came up when they’d gone to see Olivia at her home a couple of weeks earlier. Baby Daniel was approaching his first birthday and was able to crawl faster than Frank heading to the Alibi on the last Friday of the month. 

“How did you pick his name?” Mickey asked, scooping up the youngster and bouncing him on his knee like he was in a race car. 

A flash of emotion washed over Olivia’s face before she plastered on a tight smile. “Daniel was the name of my closest friend in high school. He was the boy I went to prom with. Nothing romantic. But a kind, reliable, friend.”

“That’s sweet. What does he think of the tribute?” Ian smiled at Daniel and reached out his finger to bop him on the nose. The baby squealed with delight and threw himself bodily backwards into Mickey’s chest. 

“He never found out. He passed away almost eleven years ago.” 

“Oh God. I’m so sorry.” Ian gasped. 

Daniel yelled out for him to continue their game when Ian stopped mid-air. 

“It’s okay. We went to different states for college and lost track of each other. Then one day, out of the blue, my Mom called to tell me he was gone. Undetected heart problem. It was fast and painless.” Olivia smiled, her eyes glassy. 

“That’s something at least.” Mickey sighed. 

It was a frightening reminder of how he’d faced his own mortality at the hands of his malfunctioning body. It was easy to go hours or sometimes even days now without thinking about how close he came to not getting a shot at any kind of life. How close he came to not making it at all. He took his insulin like clockwork and followed Ian’s strict food rules and he lived to see another sunrise. Olivia’s story was something of a kick up the ass to remind him that taking his health for granted was fucked up. 

“So what are you thinking of naming Miss Gallagher-Milkovich?” Olivia diverted them to a happier place. 

“Actually, she’s just gonna be Miss Milkovich. We thought about giving her the full title but that level of child abuse is frowned upon in all states.” Ian chuckled and resumed his game of nose bopping with Daniel. 

Mickey shrugged. “When we got married we kept our own names and just added each other’s as a new middle name. Makes life easier.”

Olivia nodded along. “So how did you decide on the order for the baby?”

Mickey rolled his eyes at Ian. “Sentimental asshole over here thinks it would be nice for Mandy if the baby got her surname too. So far she’s gonna actually be named Carla.”

“Carl still pushing for a namesake hm?” Olivia grinned. 

“And it’s not happening. So we need to think of an alternative.” Ian remarked dryly. 

Olivia went to the cabinet by the window and pulled out the top drawer. After a brief rummage she found what she was looking for and handed a book off to Ian. 

“Baby names! Perfect!” He laughed happily. 

“When you hear the name, you’ll know it’s right.” Olivia assured them. 

The subject came up again a week or so after their visit to Olivia. This time it was Mickey that prompted it after hearing a name on tv and not being able to get it out of his head. He mentioned it to Ian, who loved it immediately. They checked the book and found the name meant ‘bright’ which just seemed perfect. Olivia was right. Once they heard it, they knew. Now that it was decided they swore each other to secrecy. Nobody was going to find out until the baby was born. 

It was their first wedding anniversary and Ian was at work. He hated it with a passion but the opportunity to bank vacation time to use when the baby came along was too much to pass up. So while he was off pulling a double shift and pining for his husband, Mickey was spending the day doing a good deed for his brother. Iggy was in desperate need of childcare and Mickey’s niece Rory had specifically requested her uncle be the man to provide it. Long story short, Rory thought the sun rose and set with Mickey. In the year they’d been acquainted it was like they’d been best friends all their lives. 

“Okay Princess Aurora, what are we doing today?” Mickey adjusted her beanie hat to cover her ears from the bitter cold Chicago winter. 

“Can we go to the movies?” She gazed up at him expectantly. 

“Sure. Let’s swing by the multiplex and see what’s showing.” He reached for her hand and smiled when she took it. 

They were in luck. The theater was showing old Disney movies every morning for a week and today’s flick was Beauty and the Beast. Mickey would never admit it to anyone but he really liked this particular Disney effort. He remembered watching it for the first time when Mandy was a toddler and laughing when she proclaimed that she would _never_ wear a brightly colored frilly dress for all the money in the world. He smiled to himself while acknowledging that she had spent the last twenty years staying true to her word. His sister was awesome. Always had been. They got their popcorn and settled into their seats ahead of the start time. 

“Uncle Mickey?”

“Daddy says you and Uncle E are having a baby.”

He couldn’t hide his grin. As time ticked by and they got closer to the baby arriving he was fighting to keep a lid on his excitement. Rory had an adorable lisp that made her struggle with certain words. She’d never been able to get Ian’s name right so he told her to just call him E, and now it was a cute little quirk that made him smile. 

“That’s right, kiddo. She’s your baby cousin.”

Rory’s eyes, the standard issue Milkovich eyes, lit up and she bounced on her seat. “Cool! What’s her name?”

Mickey put his finger to his nose. “Secret. We’ll tell you when she gets here.”

Rory groaned. “But I can keep secrets.”

“Oh yeah? You told Uncle E that I ate the last tootsie roll last weekend.” He teased and Rory buried her head in his arm. He ran his hand through her silky brown hair and tickled her neck until she giggled. The screen burst to life and Rory didn’t utter another word until the end credits. Mickey was starting to think parenting wasn’t going to be so difficult. 

With Rory safely tucked up in bed, Iggy offered Mickey a beer to thank him for his help. 

“I don’t drink.” Mickey reminded his brother with a huff. 

“Shit. Keep forgetting. That’s crazy.” Iggy chuckled and grabbed a can of Coke instead. 

Mickey playfully flipped him off and set the soda aside, opting to drink the water he always carried with him instead. “It’s just the way it’s gotta be.”

“How was she today?”

“Rory? She was good.” Mickey frowned in confusion at the question.

Iggy sighed and rubbed his face with his knuckles. “Teacher wants us to get her tested. Thinks she might have that dyslexia thing.”

Mickey bit his lip and nodded. “Okay. That’s the best thing to do, right? Then if she is they can make sure they help her.”

Iggy nodded along. “Yeah. I guess.”

“She’s a smart kid, Ig. She’s like you.”

“I ain’t smart. I’m the opposite of smart.” Iggy scowled. 

“Shut the fuck up. So you can’t spell good and you can’t add up for shit. Who else do you know who can name all makes and models of car just by side profile alone? Who else you know can change a tire with his eyes closed? Who you know can tell what’s wrong with a bike just by hearing it ticking over?” Mickey argued bluntly. 

Iggy scoffed and shook his head. “What’s the use in all that? I only know that shit cuz I love cars and bikes.”

Mickey laughed lightly. “I know. So we help Rory figure out what she loves and make sure that’s what she gets to do with the rest of her life.”

“Jesus Christ on a jet ski, Mick. You’re not even a dad yet and you got this whole thing figured out.” Iggy teased. 

Mickey felt his blush rising. “You wanna know the trick?”

Iggy shrugged. “Lay it on me.”

“Think to yourself, what would Terry do? Then do the exact fuckin opposite.” Mickey stated. There was no humor or irony in his voice but Iggy laughed anyway. 

“Got it.” Iggy saluted. 

When Mickey got home it was almost midnight and he was exhausted. A full day of Rory was as tiring as it was amazing. Usually Ian was there to buffer some of her energy. The apartment was quiet when he arrived so he ran through his usual routine of locking up and grabbing a shower. When he passed the spare bedroom he saw a flash of red and stopped in his tracks. 

“Gallagher?”

“Hey Mick.” Ian grinned toothily from his spot on the floor, where he was painting the last part of the wall by torchlight. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Mickey rubbed his eyes. 

“Got off work early. Maxed out my hours for the week. So thought I’d get this done while I waited for you.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Ian’s smile deepened. “You were spending time with Iggy.”

Mickey shook his head and walked into the room, flicking on the light. He gasped when he saw the work Ian had completed. The wall behind where the crib would be was painted pale green. The other walls were off-white. It was light and airy. 

“S’beautiful.” He murmured. 

“You like it?” Ian grinned. 

“Love it.”

“Cool. I’m gonna take a shower real quick then I wanna hear all about your adventures with Rory today.” Ian pecked his husband on the lips and left him alone in the nursery. Boxes were piled in the corner containing the crib, changing station and wardrobe. They’d been picked out weeks ago and waited patiently for the two of them to have a day off together and build them. Tears stung in his eyes at the reality of their situation. Soon there would be a tiny human living in this room. A tiny human that they were responsible for keeping alive and teaching her the ways of the world. Part of Mickey, a small but not insignificant part, was soothed by the notion that Iggy was a father. A successful, loving father who cared deeply about his little girl. As with most things in life, if Iggy could do it there was no reason Mickey wouldn’t be able to do it. 

“Coming to bed?” Ian’s voice murmured from the doorway. 

Mickey turned to see his husband fresh from the shower and looking at him curiously. He hadn’t moved from this spot for the whole time Ian had been away. Mickey smiled brightly and nodded. 

“You gonna make it worth my while?”

Ian laughed musically and pulled Mickey by the hand to their bedroom, grabbing him up and dropping him on the bed. “Always.”

Lip heard a noise when he was in the Gallagher kitchen in the middle of the night. He’d smoked a joint with Kev at the Alibi, a first in about six months since he’d decided to be kinder to his body, and now he had a serious case of the munchies. It was a couple of days after Christmas so the fridge was stocked with festive treats. He was in the middle of undressing a cheesecake with his eyes when he heard it again. A low pitched grumbling noise. 

“It’s just in your head.” Lip mumbled to himself and grabbed a spoon, ready to demolish the sweet treat. 

There it was again. Lip followed the sound, spoon in hand, until he was climbing the staircase at the back of the house. 

“Mandy?” He hissed into the darkness. 

“Lip. Get in here.” She grunted in reply. 

He walked into the room and found her on the edge of the bed, looking agitated and feverish. 

“You okay?” He dropped the spoon and fell to his knees in front of her. 

“I think Bean is on her way.” She grimaced. 

Lip squinted. “Oh fuck. Now? Fuck. I’ve never delivered a baby before...”

“No shit? They don’t teach you that at MIT?” Mandy snapped. “Fuck this hurts.”

“I’ll get you to the hospital.”

“Shut the fuck up and call Mickey.”

“Why does every pregnant woman we know want to give birth way too early?” Mickey paced the corridor while Mandy was being assessed. “It’s only been a year since Olivia ruined the back seat of our car! Now Mandy wants to pop ours out weeks early. Are we cursed?”

Ian snagged Mickey’s hand and dragged him into his lap, holding him close. “Calm down. She’s safe. The baby is fine. It’s early but it’s not too early.”

Lip was getting coffee. He was jittery as he came down from his buzz. Ian assured him they were fine and he could go home but Lip felt a strange pull from inside him that told him to stay. Mickey resumed his pacing when Lip handed him his coffee, or whatever passed for coffee in this place. 

“How’s he doing?” Lip murmured in Ian’s ear when Mickey was out of earshot. 

“Terrified. But he hides it well.” Ian replied sardonically and Lip snorted softly. 

“This is big time, Ian. I know it didn’t work out for me the way I thought it would but when Karen had the baby...fuck. Never known fear like it. I _thought_ I was gonna be a dad. So I know what you’re feeling right now.” Lip mumbled quietly. 

Ian sighed and nodded. “Like your mouth is dry but you’re drowning?”

“Oh my God. Yes! Exactly that!” Lip gasped with a delighted laugh. “Ten fuckin years I’ve had to think about it and never come up with the best way to describe it!”

Ian mused on that for a moment while he sipped his brown sludge. “You still think about her?”

Lip dropped into the chair opposite Ian, ironically below a poster for living kidney donation. He let out a heavy sigh. “Not as much as I used to. I loved her. And she hurt me in the worst ways. It takes a lot to move on from that.”

“And now? You’re into Mandy in a big way. Right?”

Lips eyes narrowed and he smirked. “Not as casual as I like to think I am huh.”

“Not even a little bit.” Ian chuckled. 

“Spent the last year wondering where she’s been all my life.”

“Yeah?”

“Weird.” Lip acknowledged. “But yeah.”

“She’s amazing. And not just because she’s having our baby.”

“I know. I’ve really got to spend some time with her these last few months. Time where we couldn’t throw sex into the mix. It’s been different for me.” Lip admitted candidly. 

“Do you know how she feels about you?” Ian asked gently, keeping one eye on his husband as he paced the length of the opposite corridor. 

Lip smiled sadly. “Not a clue. She’s happy to tell me she likes me a lot. But she’s so focused on her career. It’s kinda hot actually.”

Ian’s laugh boomed enough for Mickey to glance his way and smile. “You gonna shoot your shot when this part is over?”

“I don’t know how we’d make it work. Different states and commitments get in the way. We can hook up when we get the chance but now that feelings are involved I’m not sure I can blur the line.”

“Wow.” Ian nodded. “You’re in deep, bro.”

“No shit.”

Mickey appeared beside them, looking lost. Ian smiled reassuringly and took his hand. An Asian male doctor opened the door beside them and smiled at the three of them. 

“It’s time. Who is coming in?”

Lip held his hands up. “I’m out. Good luck guys.”

Ian squeezed Mickey’s hand. “Ready?”

“Let’s go Gallagher.”

Mandy was less than impressed by the amount of time her niece was taking to enter the world. She’d been going for sixteen hours now. Sixteen fucking hours. 

“Do they use childbirth simulation at Guantanamo Bay?” She puffed out a breath. 

Dr Marajani laughed merrily. “They definitely should.”

“How the fuck would you know?” She retorted and the doctor laughed even harder. 

“Won’t be long now.” He assured her. “You probably won’t believe me but you’re doing really well.”

Ian held her hand but had no idea what to say to her. This was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. She was giving the greatest gift imaginable and he was stunned by it all. 

“Ian, don’t you dare say something dumb and sentimental right now.” She read his mind and warned him fiercely. 

“Behave. Or I’ll get Lip in here and he can see you in all your glory.”

“Pah.” She huffed. “He’s seen it all before.”

Mickey waved an invisible white flag with a scowl on his face. “And we’re done with that thread.”

“Oh fuck here’s another one...” Mandy grit her teeth. “Ian, get the fuck up here. I swear to God if you wander off again I will fuck you up.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t looking. I keep forgetting.” Ian was contrite and returned to his post. 

Dr Marajani was thoroughly enjoying this birth. He’d never experienced a surrogate birth before and he’d certainly never experienced one with such a kick-ass woman doing the birthing. “That’s it, Mandy. You tell him.”

Ian pouted at the doctor. “You’re mean.”

“You’ve never been interested in seeing pussy before. Don’t fucking start now. It’s not exactly looking its best right now.” Mandy pointed out. 

Ian shuddered. “Okay. I’m here. Not moving.”

When Ian emerged from the room two hours later he found Lip had been joined by Carl, Fiona and Debbie. They all leapt up in unison. One complete unit. Ian was feeling the ache of tiredness in his bones but he was so elated it didn’t hurt. 

“Well?” Debbie blurted out. 

“She’s here.” A tear rolled down Ian’s face. “And she’s perfect.”

Fiona clutched him in a tight hug, squeezing the breath out of him. “Oh Sweetface. I’m so happy for you.”

“Is Mickey okay?” Carl asked. 

“How is Mandy?” Lip chipped in next. 

“Come see.” Ian grinned brightly and nodded into the room. 

They quietly crept inside the hospital room. Mandy was tucked up under fresh sheets looking exhausted but happy. Her eyes sparkled with joy. Lip moved to her side, thinking he was being cool about it and fooling nobody. He brushed her hair back off her face and pressed the lightest kiss to her forehead. 

“Hey.” He whispered. 

“Hey.” She replied. “Make yourself useful. I need a Coke from the vending machine.”

Lip barked a quiet laugh. Even in the midst of the worst physical pain she’d likely feel in a long time, his shit talking Southside lady was the same as ever. 

Ian stepped to the side and everyone’s eyes fell on Mickey. His black hair looked like it had been pulled in every direction and he was gazing down at the tiny baby in his arms with absolute adoration. His blue eyes were shining with unshed tears when he looked up. 

“Hey guys.” He greeted. “Look who turned up.”

Fiona sobbed loudly. “She’s beautiful.”

“She looks like her Daddy.” Ian replied with a grin. 

“Can I?” Fiona pointed to the bundle in his arms and Mickey rose to his feet carefully. He was handling his daughter with the confidence of a man who had years of experience, not the sparse visits to Daniel he’d actually had. He placed the baby in Fiona’s arms and stepped back into Ian’s waiting embrace. The taller man wrapped his arm over Mickey’s shoulder and across his chest. 

“You look great, Mandy.” Debbie said with awe in her voice. 

“I’ll look even better when your brother gets off his ass and gets my soda.” Mandy looked pointedly at Lip. 

He jumped to his feet and saluted. “Be right back.”

“So what’s her name? You eventually decided on Carla, right?” Carl grinned widely. 

“I’m gonna start calling you Carla if you keep going with this shit.” Mickey warned with a smirk. 

Ian nudged his husband. “You tell them.”

“Why? You tell them.”

“It was your idea.”

“So? This ain’t the fuckin Lion King, Gallagher. Spit it out.” 

Fiona gazed at the bickering pair in bewilderment. They were truly made for each other. “Someone tell us.”

Mickey sighed his signature long-suffering-but-would-do-anything-for-Ian sigh. He was about to speak when Lip bounded back into the room with a can of soda. 

“Oh look, here’s Uncle Scar. Just in time.” Mickey drawled and received a pinch on the nipple from Ian. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Allow us to formally introduce you to our daughter. Phoebe Olivia Gallagher Milkovich. She will be known to her friends as Phoebe Milkovich. She will never be known as Pheebs. Period.” Mickey spoke softly but clearly. 

“Phoebe.” Debbie repeated. “Wow. So pretty.”

Ian preened happily. “It’s a mix of Fiona and Debbie.”

The surprise and joy on Fiona’s face was quickly removed by Mickey’s apparent shock. 

“It is?” Mickey’s head whipped around to look at his husband. 

Ian’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Hang on. You didn’t realize that?”

Mickey shook his head quickly. “No! I just liked the name!”

“Fi from Fiona. Bee from Debbie. Phoebe.” Ian spelled out slowly. 

“Fuck. How dumb am I?” Mickey let out a burst of laughter. 

Mandy shook her head and took a swig of her soda. “Can’t believe I’m gonna be the sensible influence in her life.”

Little Miss Milkovich had to stay in hospital for a little while. On the date of her birth, December 28th, she was around five weeks early. Not a huge amount but enough to require a couple of days of assessment of her lung function, heart and brain rhythms as well as, importantly, her kidneys. Mickey was silently obsessive about his daughter’s health. He hovered over her crib watching her breathe, her tiny plump lips quivering with the motion. He hung on every word the doctors spoke. He didn’t want to miss anything. He needed to know his little girl was healthy more than he needed his next breath. More worryingly, he knew if she was in any way damaged by his family’s fucking genetic make up he would never forgive himself. So when Dr Marajani came around on December 31st and gave Phoebe a clean bill of health, Mickey just about collapsed into Ian’s arms. 

“Thank God.” He mumbled, almost incoherently. 

“You don’t believe in God, bitch.” Mandy scoffed as she packed up her bag. 

Mickey flipped her off and picked Phoebe up out of the cot. “Time to go home, Princess Phoebe.”

Phoebe was settled in her basket beside their bed. They’d been home for five hours and Mickey had left her side once for a grand total of however long it took him to take a piss and wash his hands. Fireworks for the New Year crackled above their apartment but the newborn slept on regardless. She clearly had Mickey’s ability to sleep through anything. 

“Mick. We gonna talk about this?” Ian ran his palm over Mickey’s chest and paused to rest on his thrumming heart. 

“What?” Mickey turned his head to look at Ian. It was dark but the streetlight outside their apartment cast enough light to make out profiles and outlines. 

“How much you’re freaking out about Phoebe being sick.”

Mickey’s breathing stuttered. “Don’t know what mean.”

Ian’s fingertips grazed gentle patterns on Mickey’s pectoral muscle. “It’s okay. I get it. But the doctor said she’s fine. Fighting fit. You heard him.”

“I know. But for how long? I made it to fifteen before I knew I was sick. By then it was nearly too late. And I know it’s irrational. She’s not biologically my kid...”

“Hey. Cut that shit out. She’s yours.” Ian snapped at his husband. 

“I know!” Mickey replied hotly. “I’m talking genetics. The science shit. And I know we gave her a better chance by not having my little swimmers involved in the process but the fact is Mandy is my blood. She’s Phoebe’s blood. And I’m scared that’s gonna end up fucking her over.”

Ian cut off his rant by pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth. “I understand. I do. But we have way more of an advantage that you did. We know about the diabetes and your issues. We can get her checked every year so we don’t miss anything. But, baby, you’re not gonna enjoy the good stuff if all you’re doing is waiting for bad stuff that might never come.”

A couple of stray tears fell down Mickey’s cheeks and Ian kissed them away. “Look at her. She is absolutely perfect.”

Mickey sniffed and nodded. “She’s gonna have my hair and your eyes.”

“She’s going to be the best parts of both of us. I promise. Now get some sleep. She’s gonna wake up for a feed soon.” Ian kissed his husband gently on the mouth. 

Mickey turned back to glance at Phoebe one more time before he closed his eyes. “I love you, Gallagher. Sorry if I don’t say it enough. But I do.”

“Mick. Go to fucking sleep.” Ian barked quietly. 

“Well fuck you.” Mickey chuckled.

They were almost asleep. Almost. 

“Waaaaaaaaah!”

“And so it begins.” Ian rolled out of bed with a smile on his face. He walked around the bed to head to the kitchen where they had some bottles of milk made up. As he passed Mickey’s side he stopped and pressed a spontaneous kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

Mickey grinned and picked up his wailing daughter, rocking her so gently and murmuring to her almost silently. “See that guy? The one with the flames for hair? That’s your Dad. He loves us. And we love him. He makes us happy. I can’t wait for you to grow a little older and get to see how much he loves us. Mmm hmm. Oh yes. It’s gonna be a magical adventure. Filled with an annoying amount of Gallaghers. But we’re Gallaghers too, baby girl. And you know what? It’s the best thing I ever did. Ssh. Here he comes. He’s brought you some dinner. Now don’t tell him what we’ve been talking about okay? Your old man has gotta have some secrets. And mine is that I had a life before your Dad came along but I wasn’t actually living. Does that make sense? One day it will. There’s a huge difference between having life and living. And your Dad gave me it all. He’s gonna be the best part of your life, baby girl. I promise.”

Ian came into the room and found Mickey mumbling into Phoebe’s wisps of dark hair. “You two plotting against me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mickey smirked and took the bottle from Ian. 

“I would.” Ian crawled into bed beside his husband. “I would like to know.”

Mickey smiled and shook his head. “Father-daughter privilege.”

Ian slumped back into his pillow and smiled serenely as he watched his daughter take her milk. This was the life he’d always wanted. Now it was here it felt like more than he deserved. But he wasn’t giving it all back now. This was it for him. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. 


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse to the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has made it to the end of this rambling tale. As with everything I seem to get my hands on, fluff is born. 
> 
> Hope you have enjoyed - let me know what you think 🧡
> 
> @dodgerbear84 on tumblr

Mickey tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, ready to pour himself his cup of daily ambition, when he stopped in his tracks. The entire living room floor was covered in pillows and blankets and people. Little people. Who were all, miraculously, asleep. 

“Reminds me of the illegal day care Debbie used to run when we were kids.” Ian whispered from the kitchen where he was making coffee. 

“I’m sure they all had a bed last night.” Mickey mumbled and followed his husband to the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes and accepted a peck on the lips and a steaming mug of ambition in his hand. “Thanks.”

“Taken your insulin?”

“Yep.”

“Time to eat then. I switched my shift with Dave today. Working Thursday instead. Thought you’d need some help clearing up.”

Mickey smiled and nodded. “Sure looks that way. It’s carnage in there.”

Ian leaned back against the sink and smiled wistfully. “I can’t believe our baby is five years old. Not a baby anymore.”

“Oh hell. Is this you getting broody again?” Mickey chuckled. “A five year old’s birthday party followed by a sleepover didn’t make _your_ balls shrivel up into raisins?”

Ian barked a laugh, careful not to wake the sleeping brood in the living room. “I’m always broody, Mick. We make beautiful babies.”

Mickey was saved from responding by a tap on the back door beside him. He opened it to find Mandy and Lip on their back porch, huge grins on their tired faces. A small but noticeable hickey on Mandy’s collarbone told them exactly what these two had been up to after they left the party the night before. 

“Trashbag.” Mickey held the the door open with a smile. 

“Assface.” Mandy responded with an even bigger smile. 

Lip shared a fist bump with his brother-in-law as he entered the kitchen. “Hey.”

Once their family grew, Ian and Mickey had to move to a new place. Carl, now the day shift manager at the Shack, was earning enough money to get a mortgage to cover their apartment so he bought it off them. They moved to a three bed place a couple of blocks away from the Gallagher house. It was also closer to Mickey’s work. Mickey had moved up in the world and had been promoted to Area Manager, meaning he got to move around between all the branches in a hundred mile radius and kick their office managers up the ass if they were losing money. Auto repairs were a big business and a lot of the money was in how the office was run. Payroll had to be on the nose. Stock control was paramount to a good profit over minimal shrinkage. He knew his trade like the hairs on the back of his hand and now he got to share that knowledge across the franchise. It made him fucking good money. Better than Ian was making, which was a bone of contention with Mickey because the last time he’d checked he had never saved anyone’s life. Thankfully for the sick and wounded of Chicago, Ian did his job for love and not money. 

“Good night?” Ian grinned at his brother and handed over another coffee. 

“Oh you know.”

“We wouldn’t, actually. Can’t exactly get our groove going in a house full of kids.” Mickey replied with an eye on the door. The brood were still sleeping peacefully although Mickey knew as soon as he fired up the pancake making process Phoebe would be awake. She had the nose of a breakfast bloodhound, that one. 

“Ignore him. He got a hand job and he’s still grumpy.” Ian teased his husband. 

“Ugh. Why? Why do you have to do that?” Mandy scowled, shaking her head. Ian passed her a coffee and she sipped it gratefully. 

“He’s broody.” Mickey stated flatly. “His mind is not his own.”

“You are?” Lip smiled in surprise. “This didn’t put you off?”

Mickey snorted softly. “That’s what I said. But apparently not.”

Ian looped his arm around Mickey’s neck and planted a kiss on his temple. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Mandy looked slightly nervous and Ian laughed. “Don’t worry, Mands. You’ve done enough. We wouldn’t ask you.”

She exhaled with relief. “Thank God. I’ve had three babies in eight years. My internal organs think I’ve joined a fight club.”

Lip smiled at his wife in silent admiration. The woman was a goddess. After giving birth to Phoebe they went back to their respective states and got on with their lives. They lasted all of six months before Lip requested a transfer to Chicago, where Mandy had just been told she was moving to following her promotion success. He didn’t get it. Their dream of being together seemed hopeless unless one of them could live with giving up their career calling. Lip teetered on the edge of saying ‘fuck it all’ and quitting MIT when Mandy turned up on his doorstep with a suitcase. She’d managed to secure a position in Boston. It wasn’t quite the promotion she’d already received but it was still the job she loved. After that, the rest is history. They moved in together in a nice rooftop apartment in a nice part of Boston, got married after a year, had their first child a year later and their second two years after that. Now Mandy worked part time and from home so she got to keep the job she loved while she raised her family. Lip also worked from home sometimes so he shared the load. To outsiders looking in, they were the most stable couple to come out of the Southside since Ian and Mickey. 

Mickey grabbed a pan from the counter and the eggs from the fridge. “Staying for breakfast?”

“Banana pancakes?” Mandy sniffed expectantly. 

Mickey rolled his eyes and located the bananas in the fruit bowl. “Sure.”

“Go on then. Twisted my arm.” She grinned cheekily. 

Sure enough, the pancakes cooking woke up a couple of the sleeping brood and moments later Rory and Phoebe wandered into the kitchen. 

“Aunt Mandy!” Rory cried and jumped on Mandy. 

“Uncle Lip!” Phoebe repeated the movement with Lip, who scooped up the 8 year old like she weighed nothing. Much to Carl’s dismay, his niece had taken an instant early shine to Lip and it had lasted all her life so far. 

Every kid has their favorite, right?

“Kiddos, sit and eat.” Mickey directed. “Before the rest of our Little League team wakes up and demands food.”

Ian chuckled at Mickey’s description. It wasn’t lost on him that Mickey was drawing attention to the scale of childcare they had going on. There was another knock at the back door and Olivia popped her head in. 

“Do I smell pancakes?” She sniffed with a broad smile. 

“Sure do. Come in and grab a seat.” Mickey pointed to the six seater table that had two seats left. 

“How was the sleepover?” She asked softly. 

Ian beckoned her to the door and pointed to the living room where kids were piled up. Daniel was on the armchair by the window, the sunlight making his fair hair shine like glitter. He was fast asleep with a tiny smile on his face. “All good.”

Olivia smiled and felt a bloom of tears. Her son was nine years old and didn’t make friends easily. He was shy and preferred the company of his toys to other kids back home. To see him relaxed and carefree like this was a relief to her. Her boy was an only child. Their miracle. He was perfect in every single way but that didn’t stop Olivia worrying about him. “Thanks.”

The first batch of pancakes went to Rory and Phoebe, and Lip as he kept stealing bites from their plates. 

“Hey!” Phoebe scowled. “Do that again and I’ll stab you in the leg with my fork.”

Favorite uncle or not, she _was_ a Milkovich after all. 

“Pheebs, please don’t threaten to stab people. Even if they deserve it.” Ian warned lightly. 

“Don’t fuckin call her that!” Mickey groused, coming over with more pancakes and a pitcher of juice to set on the table. 

Phoebe rolled her emerald green eyes that were so much like Ian’s it freaked Mickey out on a regular basis. “All my friends call me that.”

“Well tell them to fuckin stop. I didn’t pick out a kick ass beautiful name for you heathens to trash it. Now eat your breakfast.”

Phoebe swished her long black poker straight hair over her shoulder and ate some pancakes. 

“Nobody ever calls me Aurora.” Rory mused aloud. 

“There’s a reason for that.” Mickey mumbled under his breath before Ian kicked him in the shin to silence him. 

“Aurora is a beautiful name. But I like Rory too. It’s fierce.” Olivia told her with a smile. 

A yawning, sleepy figure appeared in the doorway clutching a worn out stuffed raccoon. 

“Hey buddy. Did you sleep well?” Mickey grinned down at his son. The youngster looked exhausted but nodded. He’d had a pretty wild party for a five year old. 

“Morning Leo.” Ian grinned and held out his arms for his boy. Leo clambered into Ian’s embrace and rested his head on Ian’s firm chest. With his rust color hair and sky blue eyes, he was the perfect opposite combination of Gallagher/Milkovich to Phoebe. And that was all thanks to Debbie, who answered their call when they were hoping to expand their family six years earlier. 

“Pancakes or cereal?” Ian murmured. 

“Pop Tarts.” Leo replied simply. 

“Nope. Uncle Carl has got to stop passing that off as real food. You can have pancakes like your sister.” Mickey retorted with a wave of his spatula. 

While Phoebe had planted her flag of devotion in Lip’s camp, Carl was by far the favorite for Leo. He idolized him. He even wanted to be a fisherman when he was older so he could work with his amazing Uncle Carl. It was a foolproof plan in the eyes of a child. Leo took the last seat at the table and Mickey sped up his pancake production line to keep up with demand. Soon the others woke up. Daniel was next and perched on Olivia’s knee while he ate. Mandy and Lip’s son Ethan followed shortly after. Their youngest was three years old and was a double of Lip, even down to the slightly crooked nose. Mandy had assumed when she met Lip that his nose was a result of fights as a kid. Turns out, it was made worse by fights but it was actually naturally off-center. As soon as Ethan appeared his brother was behind him. Jacob was nearly six and also looked like Lip. 

“Heavy night kid?” Lip ruffled his eldest’s fair hair. 

Jacob yawned. “Rory snores.”

“I do not!” Rory argued, mortified. She was the eldest of the whole group and liked to think of herself as almost an adult, then though she wasn’t even twelve yet. 

“You do.” Phoebe added. “So does Daniel.”

“Do I?” Daniel shrugged. “Kick me next time. That should make me stop.”

Olivia met Ian's eyes and gaped with surprise. Her son would never have said something like that in the past. He would’ve crawled under the table in devastation that someone had pointed out a flaw in him. Ian was the person that Olivia talked to about her fears for her son so he knew what the look of surprise meant on her. Ian smiled and winked, moving to refill everyone’s coffee with fresh from the pot. “Hanging out with Southside hood rats isn’t always so bad.”

Olivia giggled and shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Next through the door was the last of the sleepover gang. Jamie, Fiona’s four year old son wandered in with wild bed hair and half closed eyes. He was the product of a one night stand with a former lover, Jimmy. The same Jimmy that all the Gallaghers knew was the love of her life and the one that got away. Jamie was the catalyst that made Fiona get back in touch with Jimmy at his new home in Florida. Once he found out his ex was pregnant with his child Jimmy packed up his life and moved back to Chicago. Tentatively, he and Fiona got back together and over the last couple of years were even talking about getting married. 

The kitchen was filled to the brim with people. Children sat on the knees of adults at the table and Mickey hovered by the sink with Ian’s arm wrapped around his middle. Mickey tipped his head back and Ian leaned down to kiss him softly. 

“You ever think, back in the day, this was where we’d end up?” He grinned. 

Ian smiled and kissed him again. “Would’ve started World War Whatever to make it happen.”

Mandy jeered from her spot at the table. “Still making out like teenagers after looking after seven kids all night.”

“You’re just jealous we know how to handle your tribe of animals so easily.” Mickey retorted with a smirk. 

When the rabble had cleared out and the breakfast dishes put in the dishwasher, Ian busied himself putting pillows and blankets back in their rightful places. Mickey braided Phoebe’s long hair ( _thank you, YouTube_ ) while they watched an episode of The Simpson’s on tv and Leo played with his toy cars on the floor. It was suddenly so peaceful after the loud and raucous morning. 

“Daddy?” Phoebe spoke up while Mickey was finishing up her hair. 

“Hmm?”

“Will you and Dad have another baby?”

Mickey’s hands stilled and his mouth fell open. “I don’t think so, Sweets.”

“Why not?” She sounded disappointed and Mickey couldn’t shake the feeling that he was disappointed too. 

“You know it’s not so easy for us to have babies. We had to get help from Aunt Mandy and Aunt Debbie to have you guys.” Mickey explained again. They’d already had this conversation with Phoebe, who had known from day one how she came to be. 

“Maybe they could help again.” Phoebe mumbled shyly. 

“Baby, you know it’s not that easy. They did a brilliant, amazing thing to help us have our little family. But they’ve done enough. We couldn’t ask one of them to go through it again.” 

“You’re happy with just me and Leo?” She bit her lip like Mickey did when he was anxious. 

“Of course we are. You’re everything we ever wanted. We don’t need anything else to make us happy.” Mickey assured her, glancing around for his sentimental husband to help him out. As if he read Mickey’s mind, Ian appeared in the doorway with a smile on his handsome face. 

“Our family is complete.” Ian stated with finality. 

Phoebe nodded and hopped off the chair in front of Mickey. “Okay. Can I play in the yard?”

Leo jumped up too, eager to play on his new scooter. “Can I?”

“Sure. Check the gate is locked and stay in the yard.” Mickey nodded. “And leave the back door open so we can listen out for when you start brawling.”

The kids scurried out to the enclosed back yard where toys were still strewn about from Leo’s party the day before. Having a July birthday meant outdoor parties and cook outs that went on long into the night. With Leo on his Batman scooter and Phoebe doing back flips on her trampoline, Mickey turned to Ian and studied him closely. 

“Our family is complete?”

Ian smiled and nodded. “Yeah. We’re lucky to have what we have.”

“Yeah.”

“Being a parent with you...watching them grow...it’s my dream come true.”

“Mine too. I dunno why everyone makes such a fuss about parenting. We seem to do alright.” Mickey noted with a shrug. 

“Better than alright.” Ian dragged Mickey into a deep, satisfying kiss. They could hear the kids playing in the yard so when Mickey felt a stirring in his pants he pulled away, albeit reluctantly. 

“Can’t fuck now. Kids are here.” He groaned bitterly. 

“Maybe not. But we can make out.”

“Nope. Last time we made out you stuck your fingers in my ass and made me come in my pants.” Mickey growled and Ian giggled happily. 

“I can do it again now...”

Mickey weighed up his options. A quick grope on the sofa to get him off or wait all day to fuck properly when the kids were in bed...

Ian read his mind again. “Both.”

Mickey shook his head in disbelief that he’d married the one guy in the world that knew what he was thinking without him uttering a word. “Make it fast tough guy, they’ll be fighting over something soon.” Mickey hastily unzipped his jeans and climbed on Ian. 

The redhead kissed him deeply and stuck a hand down the back of his pants, squeezing the warm flesh of Mickey’s ass. “Love you, Mick.”

“Love you too, Gallagher....Jesus Christ! Get the lube, bitch.”

The End


End file.
